


All the King’s Lands | 莫非王土

by WangYue (Armaria)



Series: The Boundaries of the World [2]
Category: The Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)
Genre: Ancient China, Chinese Language, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Demons, Immortals, M/M, Migrated from LLS, Multi, Spoilers, Sunshot Campaign, Symbolism, This is probably A Chinese Odyssey minus bad end, Time Travel, Wishes, Xianxia, revision
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-08-07 22:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 64,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armaria/pseuds/WangYue
Summary: The worries weighed down over a thousand years,over a wish we made hoping for it to never vanish,were only awaiting the answer of fate.Wei Wuxian had heard of going against the flow, but to be honest, he hadn't thought that it would mean going against the flow oftime.On the bright side, the in-laws were perfectly civil. On the bad side, the wronged god which he had met in his past-future just awoke early.Then Lan Wangji came along, and now there was a young him and a young Lan Wangji, along with older-still-handsome Lan Wangji, and wasn't that just delightful for a lesson in syntax to account for non-linear time?___5 Nov 2018: Switching to weekly updates to allow for real-life issues. - LLS31 Dec 2018: Fic migrated to Armaria account due to troubles with main account - LLS





	1. Threading the Needle

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [From Shore to Shore | 率土之滨](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805143) by [lalunaticscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe). 



> [Please support me on my Tumblr!](https://lalunaticscribe.tumblr.com)

“The ultimate aim of cultivation is immortality.”

Wei Wuxian sat at the head of the Orchid Room. There were a lot more interested listeners nowadays – it was not often that the Yiling Patriarch himself talked about cultivation in general. The only time that the junior cultivators saw this senior outside of the Room of Silence and not within proximity of HanGuang-Jun was a very rare scenario.

“Perhaps it was best to say that it is the initial aim of cultivation. One cultivates the body, the mind, the spirit – it is the act of polishing one’s art to the highest levels. Therefore a strict definition of ‘cultivation’ comes from the three-hundred and sixty paths of life.”

“You are all practitioners of righteous cultivation – no idea if that will change,” Wei Wuxian flippantly commented in a way that invited righteous indignation and Jin Ling at the front of the class to bury his face in his hands, “and me? Er...”

“HanGuang-Jun lets him talk about this?” Lan Jingyi gave an exaggerated low groan. “Senior Wei might as well supervise our night-hunts and leave the theory to HanGuang-Jun!”

“Anyway, there is no such thing in theory as a path which is impossible to cultivate under, there are only ways of cultivating that none of you ever heard of,” Wei Wuxian summed up. “In practice... the demonic path harms the body and spirit, which is why... er, I died the first time.”

“...” Lan Sizhui glanced about. “Senior Wei forgot the notes HanGuang-Jun wrote for him... and he’s nervous...”

“Of course, there’s a grey area too!” Wei Wuxian loudly continued. “Anyone remember the Taishan Duanmu Sect?”

“They were at the Discussion Conference’s closing ceremony yesterday!” Jin Ling complained for everyone else in the room. “Don’t you remember them?! They were written on the damn agenda, right after the fiery sunset causing a drought at Shaanxi and the river course of the Jingchu region being flooded with growing lotuses! Madam Duanmu openly filing for divorce!”

To be honest, the younger cultivators had actually felt that the madam had a point. Never mind if the husband was admired by every woman near and far; Jiang Cheng had openly commented the Master Duanmu as ‘a sight for sore eyes’, pointedly not looking in the other direction towards Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

This also accounted for why Wei Wuxian was teaching today – Lan Wangji was filling in for Lan Xichen to see the guests off.

“Sect Chief Jin, are you here to learn or here to complain?” Wei Wuxian dismissed. “They’re not that different from orthodox or demonic cultivators, really!”

Jin Ling did not leave once the class was concluded. Instead, he slammed a flowerpot into the desk, the gold peonies bobbing on the stems. One peony fell off and hit the desk with a  _clunk_ .

“It got heavy,” Jin Ling massaged his wrists. “All the flowers in the Blooming Garden turned into gold.”

“Transformation of organic matter into inorganic matter _is_ a strange thing,” Wei Wuxian frowned, “but why bring it to me?”

“The Blooming Garden... was Uncle’s room,” Jin Ling scratched at his nape. “All the elders say that Uncle... escaped.”

“They said the same thing yesterday when Qinghe was hit with earthquakes,” Wei Wuxian reasoned, “and didn’t we check yesterday?”

“I checked again,” Jin Ling rubbed his eyes. “This is not a fun situation, the elders are all getting nervous. You sure it’s not you?”

“Young Mistress, do I look like my external alchemy reached that point yet?” Wei Wuxian spread his arms. “Lan Zhan won’t even let me near the Elixir Room.”

“You set the crucible on fire,” Jin Ling reminded him. “The iron crucible.”

“Anyway, Jin Guangyao isn’t likely to be changing flowers into gold,” Wei Wuxian gave up, taking the flowerpot and grimacing as his arms nearly fell off with it. “How heavy is this?!”

“Very heavy, although only the flowers turned gold,” Jin Ling helped him carry one side of the pot, and the two of them slowly moved out of the Orchid Room towards the Elixir Room of the Cloud Recesses.

At least, Wei Wuxian tried to, until an arm took up the whole pot.

“HanGuang-Jun, you’re so strong!” Wei Wuxian immediately praised the owner of the arms. “Truly worthy of the arm strength passed down the Lan line for generations!”

“...En.” Lan Wangji held up the flowerpot, his expression puzzled.

“HanGuang-Jun!” Jin Ling saluted, with no small amount of fear. “I... came to consult about this... the flowers around Uncle’s old room turned... well, into real gold.”

“The Lanling Jin Sect is still rich, what’s scarier is if Jin Guangyao escaped the sealed coffin,” Wei Wuxian frowned. “But we checked yesterday, he’s still there, so...”

“...a strange occurrence,” Lan Wangji said. “Hong Yuexia has been put at the Osmanthus Room.”

“No way!” Jin Ling burst out, “that-”

“Jin Ling,” Wei Wuxian warned, “go find Sizhui. Maybe these strange occurrences... are just the signs of an Immortal descending from their realm to the mortal world.”

Jin Ling made a harrumph, but left after saluting. Despite being a Sect Chief he still knew his limits, that his cultivation could not compare to even Lan Sizhui of the same generation, never mind the elders. Wei Wuxian of course did not count in that list – everyone knew the Yiling Patriarch’s current body was low in cultivation, though HanGuang-Jun seemed to be intent on correcting that via paired cultivation.1

“So... let’s get that to the Elixir Room!” Wei Wuxian smiled.

“En.” Lan Wangji nodded

“How were the guests?” Wei Wuxian asked as they walked shoulder to shoulder.

“They left.”

“Your brother?” Wei Wuxian did not give up.

“In seclusion.”

“If we tell him about this, d’you think he’ll come out?”

“He only just went into seclusion. That is unlikely.”

The exchange continued right up to the Elixir Room.

Unlike the Ancient Room, the Underworld Room or even the Library Pavilion, the Elixir Room was an isolated house guarded by Lan disciples in shifts, and a shaded chimney directed downwind of the main compound. Lan Wangji only gravely handed the flowerpot to the disciple on duty with a terse summary and a request, before hauling Wei Wuxian by the collar away from the place. The disciple breathed a sigh of relief; they had in fact been wary of the Yiling Patriarch trying to jump over the walls to get in like the last time.

“I wanna go see!” came the wheedling.

“No,” Lan Wangji continued to drag him. “We have guests.”

“Then at least let me walk!”

Lan Wangji set him onto his feet.

“Lan Zhan, I feel like you think that I’m a doll,” Wei Wuxian chose this time to lean on Lan Wangji’s side as if he had lost all the bones on his body. “So, you need this Yiling Patriarch to protect you from big bad Hong Yuexia?”

They were approaching the Osmanthus Room already. Tucked away on its own corner of the Cloud Recesses, it resembled the cottage with the gentian field which Wei Wuxian had been to only once. Doubtless, it was similar to the house as well; a place of detention disguised as a residence.

A woman in red sat on the veranda, a red cord dangling from her hands. Her melon-seed face was graceful, tanned and healthy, her hands slender and her fingers nimble and quick in knotting the cord into the start of an endless knot. The clothes she wore, though, were silk and damask in red and gold. A maid knelt by the side, lazily fanning towards the woman in red.

“Your Highness,” the maid murmured.

“I’m no longer the Grand Princess Shuiyue here,” the woman briskly said, barely looking at the visitors.

“Well, the body is, but the soul is not,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “Isn’t that why you’re here, Old Senior?”

It was actually a very long tale behind her presence here, one involving another sacrifice to summon a spirit to possess a body. Unlike Wei Wuxian’s case, though, the summoner was the one sacrificed – murdered, and the spirit of a great cultivator from the age of gods forced into the mortal shell. Bound to the identity of the mortal shell, who turned out to be the princess of a kingdom on the edge of ruin, the cultivator Hong Yuexia had then proceeded to turn the kingdom’s fortunes around and basically keep the princess’s younger brother on the throne before a noisy haunting, and the subsequent series of events, brought Hong Yuexia to be placed under detention by the Gusu Lan Sect.

“And then?” she replied. “It makes no difference were I male or female.”

It was much less important to recall that Hong Yuexia had been male.

* * *

“I was moved from Layue Abbey only because you cultivator clans get nervous,” Hong Yuexia snorted once tea was served. “Lousy weather!”

“Yes, most cultivators can’t change the weather on a whim,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Nor can they turn flowers into real gold.”

“Qiluo, get the cakes too,” Hong Yuexia finally said to the maid.

The maid nodded, bowing before taking her leave.

“Organic to inorganic transformation happened?” Hong Yuexia asked without preamble once the maid had left.

“A green flash and a drought appeared in the west, lotuses flooding the Jingchu region, earthquakes in Qinghe, and flowers turning into gold in Lanling,” Wei Wuxian listed. “Are you sure that has nothing to do with you?”

“I... returned... ten years ago,” came the delicate reply. “This sounds more like... no, the order is all wrong.”

“Old Elder, you’re the only one under the heavens closest to Apotheosis,” Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. “You can do _anything_.”

“Being able to do anything is the problem,” Hong Yuexia continued to weave the knot. “What ‘infinite possibilities’ cover are both the possibilities of success and the possibilities of failure. After all, Wen Mao and the rest of them managed to kill me once.”

Didn’t you come back, Wei Wuxian wanted to complain but did not say.

It was the return of Hong Yuexia, once a cultivator even older than Baoshan-Sanren, which had landed her here in the first place, alone and weaponless. The lack of obvious weapons, though, did not preclude the fact that Hong Yuexia’s most famous contribution to cultivation was the concept of the Qiankun pouch, so she might actually have more weapons hidden.

“I wouldn’t want to be back here either,” Hong Yuexia complained, waving her hands. The deity-binding chains on her hands clinked with each movement, one chain attached to each limb and festooned in talismans of cinnabar written on yellow paper. “Cultivation nowadays is so limiting. Back in the old days you truly saw cultivators from all three hundred and sixty walks of life! A hundred schools of cultivation all around! Nowadays they subject all the children to soul-calming ceremonies and expose them to the clan treasures from a young age.”

“Isn’t... that a good thing?” Wei Wuxian hazarded.

“...” Hong Yuexia looked up from her knot. Her eyes glittered, sometimes as black as basalt, sometimes as green as jadeite, and then sometimes milky white like mutton-fat jade discs set into her skull.

“Do you know how we found out that faeries, demons, ghosts, and monsters are not the same things?” she asked him.

“Faeries are formed from living, non-human beings; demons are formed from living humans; ghosts are formed from dead humans; monsters are formed from dead, non-human beings,” Wei Wuxian rattled off.

“I met a demon once,” Hong Yuexia reflected. “He was prepared to practice the way of carnage. Had to put him down in the end, which was also how we found out about demons. Your demonic cultivation is... mild, in comparison.”

“We thank you for your pioneering spirit,” came Wei Wuxian’s stout reply. “Yet years of cultivation and the current state of the world implies that our current path should be working.”

“Stagnating,” the fingers continued to move. “Few exchanges of knowledge, no intellectual sharing, not even a common pool of knowledge, the collected knowledge of cultivation now depends on those few bloodlines who monopolise all that knowledge.”

“It’s a difference of learning,” Wei Wuxian demurred. “Elder comes from an era where the sect was focused upon, not the clan. Familial ties are a convenience, but not a necessity. Wen Mao’s change to focus on the clan propagated the purest extension of the old traditions from ancestors to descendants, which is not always possible in a school.”

“There was nothing to pass down back then, everyone was trying to cultivate towards something,” Hong Yuexia stopped knotting the cord for a brief moment. “I hoped, you know, that something new would have been created, but... to be honest, I have forgotten more knowledge than you discovered on your lonesome, boy. Isn’t that why the revelation of my presence led to my detention here?”

“Elder has all the courtesies of a guest of the Gusu Lan Sect,” Lan Wangji made a short salute. “I carry the apologies of my brother the Sect Chief – he is in mourning.”

A corner of Hong Yuexia’s lip curled. “All the Lan clan are like that. It was why Little Mei loved the monk so much that she married him.”

That information made little sense until Wei Wuxian factored in that Hong Yuexia was a being from an era ended by the peers of the Lan ancestor, Lan An. Little Mei was likely referring to the cultivation partner of Lan An, the ‘fated person’ who had founded the Lan Sect alongside him. This was a revelation; the official histories never wrote down the name of Lan An’s cultivation partner at all.

“Do... you know who died?” Wei Wuxian hazarded.

“The Chief Cultivator, Jin Guangyao.” Hong Yuexia inclined her head. “In another lifetime he would have been a capable subject. His personality... I have never met him personally, yet it is my impression that he is not suited to immortality.”

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian hummed. “Why? He has too many machinations to cultivate?”

“Hardly. The concept of eternity implies endlessness, knowing that all physical things end,” Hong Yuexia contemplated. “That is to say, his career was set towards an inevitable conclusion which had the possibility of death and betrayal. From the moment he set his course he had wavered, and contented himself with mortal glory on earth rather than reach towards the skies. The only thing which remains unwavering is his commitment to live, which is perhaps the only thing he could leverage in the pursuit for immortality.”

She smiled, as if commiserating with an old colleague.

“In this day and age, I don’t even think that anyone knows the reason why they took the path towards the Dao in the first place.”

* * *

“I actually think,” Wei Wuxian said in the bath, “that Elder Hong has a point.”

The sun was setting, it was nearly dinnertime, and Wei Wuxian was taking a bath in the Room of Silence. It was not his usual schedule, but he fell into the cold spring from too high a rock shelf – a consequence of trying to eat cold noodles washed through a flume of bamboo with water from the cold spring.

“It is forbidden to overeat in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji scrubbed a wet towel across his back. “Why...” he fell silent.

“It’s so rare that I find something vegetarian that I enjoy eating in the Cloud Recesses,” Wei Wuxian confessed. “It’s also the perfect season for cold things. Aren’t I smart, Second Brother Lan~?”

“En,” Lan Wangji sighed, scrubbing harder. “Next time, you can use the ice in the cellar. Using water from the cold spring... does not seem appropriate.”

“You mean because the Lan disciples bathe in it,” Wei Wuxian considered. “You people always wash before entering the cold spring!”

“You have to wash too, if you intend to keep using that water.”

“Eh...” Wei Wuxian blushed. “Lan Zhan, are you insinuating that I don’t have good hygiene? I feel so disappointed, I always wash very thoroughly every night before bed so that I smell nice for Second Brother Lan~”

“...shameless,” the whisper was quiet, but the bathtub shook.

“I actually don’t remember why I entered the path of cultivation,” Wei Wuxian reflected. “I had the talent, but if Uncle Jiang didn’t take me in back then, I probably wouldn’t even have known that such a mysterious and elegant path existed, much less any opportunity at it. I wouldn’t even meet Second Young Master Lan except if Second Young Master Lan was playing the hero rescuing the hero~”

“...”

“You were probably the same as every other legitimate young master born in the big sects,” Wei Wuxian spoke up in response to the silence. “Because it’s the way things are. The Gusu Lan Sect was founded to cultivate.”

“I would still help.”

“Of course you would. ‘Being where the chaos is’ has become a defining feature of HanGuang-Jun,” Wei Wuxian sighed into the touch, leaning over to peck at Lan Wangji’s nose. “So I would have been a hoodlum living on the street... maybe I went into the forest, a faery came along and started wrecking havoc, HanGuang-Jun appears and saves me, but I have no money so I can only repay HanGuang-Jun with~ my~ body- ow!”

Wei Wuxian complained as Lan Wangji tilted his head to the side, and bit on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “Well? Is HanGuang-Jun hungry?” Wei Wuxian whispered into the delicate shell of the ear closest to his mouth, before rubbing one incisor against the pink lobe. “I’m hungry too,” he breathed. “Lan Zhan... let me get out of the-”

A tattoo of hammering struck the door from outside, Lan Wangji crushing one side of the tub before he sighed. “Stay in the tub,” he ordered, turning around to walk behind the partition screen and open the door of the Room of Silence.

“H- HanGuang-Jun!” Lan Jingyi panted. “The outer patrols! They reported... the Bi Ling Lake is gone!”

“Huh?! The whole lake?” Wei Wuxian shouted, immediately climbing out of the tub to dry himself.

“That’s the thing!” Lan Jingyi exclaimed. “The whole lake, the river courses, all the way upstream to the Long River... it floated up! T- T- The water’s floating towards the Cloud Recesses!”

* * *

A procession of disciples dressed in white assembled outside of the Cloud Recesses before ascending on their swords en masse. A northern wind blew to herald the coming winter, the mists thickening over the mountain-top to hide within them the Cloud Recesses. It was a rare sight – for it was approaching the curfew.

Wei Wuxian sneezed, clinging to Lan Wangji’s waist. “Just please set me on fire. So cold, colder than even HanGuang-Jun...”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji warned, but placed a palm on the small of his back, the warmth of spiritual energy passing through Wei Wuxian’s body.

“Let’s be real, HanGuang-Jun...” Wei Wuxian wiped at his face with his only free hand, and grimaced as bits of frost fell off. “Has anyone ever bothered to ride swords this high up? I... I...”

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji caught the other before Wei Wuxian could totter right off of Bichen, descending to a more acceptable altitude. “What’s wrong?”

“Too... little... air,” Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, trying to steady the rabbiting of his heart. It was not the fun kind of experience. “Ugh... my nose.”

“You have not been concentrating on your cultivation,” Lan Wangji sighed, but move to touch Wei Wuxian’s face. “I will bring you down first.”

“Oh.”

Wei Wuxian barely complained as they descended, and Wei Wuxian leant forward to peck Lan Wangji on the cheek. “I’ll summon Wen Ning. If the water drops here we’ll have to redirect it away from the nearby settlements.”

“En.” Lan Wangji hummed.

“If all that water drops onto the Cloud Recesses...” Wei Wuxian pondered.

“Uncle is adjusting the barrier. There should be enough people on hand to defend against one strong strike,” Lan Wangji frowned. “The best way is still to check for the influence of faeries.”

“That’s true,” Wei Wuxian admitted, looking up.

Like the breath of dragons beneath the ground, the mists amidst the mountains outside of Gusu billowed outwards. Towards the skies, their target seemed to be the heavy mass which shone like dulled jade in the heavens.

“I...” Lan Wangji hovered up, and then stopped.

“We’ll meet up at the Cloud Recesses,” Wei Wuxian patted himself, before giving a delighted grin as he presented the jade tablet carved with the motif of floating clouds.

“En. Wait for me to return,” Lan Wangji nodded, flying up once more.

“Eh... I should get back to it,” Wei Wuxian groused as he began the long walk back up. “True, Mo Xuanyu’s body has low cultivation, but there’s no way I can cultivate a golden core that quickly. We can only slowly get there... let’s think about things other than what I can’t change! Lan-”

Wei Wuxian’s face fell. “Dumbass, he’s busy,” he scolded, almost to nobody in particular.

“...Young Master.”

Wei Wuxian jumped “Wen Ning!”

“...” The notorious fierce corpse known as the Ghost General nodded. “That... the waters of the Bi Ling Lake...”

“I don’t know either,” Wei Wuxian admitted. “Probably a faery with control over water can manage it, but lifting a whole lake to drown a mountain compound is the sort of thing only told by storytellers who drink too much. Think about it, water is soft and pliant, and in great amounts it floods and overwhelms the land. So the amount of spiritual power needed to move a whole lake up into the skies and then make it all crash down at once is not cost-effective as techniques go. Furthermore, large bodies of water are concentrations of _yin_ energy – this is how a Waterborne Abyss develops when boats sink and people drown in them.”

“But if that water comes down, it’s not just the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ning expressed. “Even if we stop it here, Caiyi Town and even the city of Gusu would be flooded once that crashes down.”

“Therefore we need to redirect the water, preferably into Lake Tai or some other body,” Wei Wuxian reasoned. “Get shovels, I’ll summon more corpses to help out.”

“Yes!” Wen Ning ran off quickly.

“Luckily Wen Ning is here, otherwise I wouldn’t know how else to do this,” Wei Wuxian pondered. “Normally when people say ‘when immortals fight, the common people suffer’ they aren’t talking about the real gods. We need to quickly dig a large ditch... at least the Cloud Recesses themselves should be fine... damn, this mist is thick... I hope I don’t get lost...”

Pulling Chenqing, Wei Wuxian put the black flute to his lips and began to play. As he did, the mists of the mountains swept down, encasing him as if he had fallen into the fog, with nary a ripple in sight.

Within the Cloud Recesses, Hong Yuexia scoffed as she tore off the last of the broken chains. The ashes of burnt talismans surrounded her, and amongst them the red silk thread of an unravelled endless knot drifted to the ground as embers ate into its body, burnt with the usage of its power. Licking at a mild burn on her thumb, Hong Yuexia’s eyes flashed as she watched the burn disappear as if nothing had happened.

“None of you,” she purred as she sauntered out, the maid Qiluo following in her footsteps, “are ready for a true Immortal.”

The skies rumbled with her words as the rain began to pour down.

* * *

**1 See [here](https://immortalmountain.wordpress.com/2017/06/07/dual-cultivation-human-cauldrons/) on dual cultivation**


	2. Multiple Threads

Walking out of the mist, Wei Wuxian suddenly felt his hair hanging loose down his back – his hair-tie had been lost in the fog. Impatiently, he used the forehead ribbon to tie his hair back up in a loose ponytail, and continued.

A shining blade stopped Wei Wuxian from playing further.

“Raising ghosts around the Cloud Recesses is forbidden.”

“Eh?” Wei Wuxian blinked, before realising that the curtain of night had fallen around him. “Ah, this lady... I’ve never seen you before...”

The girl before him was a female cultivator of the Gusu Lan Sect – her uniform of white, complete with cloud-patterned forehead ribbon, even marked her as part of the main clan. The beauty in her bones made it clear that she would be a devastating beauty once she grew up from being twelve or thirteen. Yet the youth in her face did not match the coldness, an incongruous youth to match the harsh experiences needed to craft the look in her eyes. Nor did two things about her match; the long sword currently aiming for Wei Wuxian, and the large package on her back.

“Intruder, this is the Cloud Recesses,” she said. It was not impatient, nor did it seem bloodthirsty – it was like Lan Wangji explaining the rules to a cowering rule-breaker, the teacherly patience of someone with far too much self-discipline and good breeding.

“I live here!” Wei Wuxian fumbled about, carefully keeping his hands visible and pointed away from her until he could show her the jade tablet with the cloud-pattern. “I’m Wei Wuxian! My cultivation partner is your family’s HanGuang-Jun!”

“The Lan clan does not have this person named HanGuang-Jun,” the girl spoke – very softly, yet very clearly. “Any cultivator who marries into our Lan clan should not that people who break the curfew are not allowed in.”

“You broke the curfew!” Wei Wuxian pointed out.

“Night patrol. You were raising walking corpses around the Cloud Recesses, and disturbing the rest of everyone else.”

Why does it feel like you’re more angry about the latter than the former? Wei Wuxian looked down the shining blade, and realised that it was not exactly silver. Parts of it glittered with the red of slaughtered corpses.

How terrifying! Lan Zhan, save me!

The girl began to raise the sword. Without a single word, she swung it down.

“Young Sect Leader! Stop!”

The blade froze in mid-air.

“O- Old Madame summoned you,” the newcomer was also a Lan disciple, panting. “S- She said... to bring in the flute-player.”

“Understood.” She sheathed the sword, immediately patting the large package on her back, pulling a chord with a _twang_. The heavy-gauge silk string immediately bound Wei Wuxian’s hands back before the girl frog-marched him into the Cloud Recesses.

She glared at the jade tablet from Wei Wuxian as they passed through. “It did not work,” she told Wei Wuxian, brow furrowed.

“That’s impossible!” Wei Wuxian blurted out, before he accidentally tripped. He would have slammed his face into the wall were it not for the girl catching him – as things stood, his face slammed into the pillar instead.

“Ouch!”

“Please watch your step,” the girl said, almost perfunctory as she continued to drag him along.

“Oi! Couldn’t you put me back on my feet?” Wei Wuxian choked. “Is this how the Gusu Lan Sect treats its guests?!”

“You have not been established as a guest.” After a pause in which the only sound was Wei Wuxian’s body scraped along the floor, the girl added: “Just because Grandmother wants to see you does not mean that you are a guest either.”

“Heh, what a way with words. The Gusu Lan Sect has a good Young Sect Leader...” Wei Wuxian’s words fell as he frowned.

A female Sect Leader of the Gusu Lan Sect? There were no female Sect Leaders in the near-future, at least not as far as he knew. Quite the opposite; with Lan Xichen nowhere near to producing an heir and Lan Wangji tethered to him, the main Lan clan was low on female juniors. More than once, Lan Qiren had bemoaned – within earshot – in the Ancestral Hall about failing the Lan family.

The point was, the only time that the Gusu Lan Sect had a woman as their Sect Leader, it was the grand-daughter of their founder Lan An. The creator of the infamous Chord Assassination, the only female Sect Leader in the Gusu Lan Sect’s history – Lan Yi.

_So... exactly how am I meeting Lan Zhan’s how-many-generations grandmother?! What should I do?! How do I greet her? ‘Great-Grandmother’? I’ll die if I have to address this little girl as ‘Great-Grandmother’! Is this the legendary ‘girl who changes eighteen times between childhood and womanhood’? I don’t see it at all!_

The creator of the Lan Sect’s most famous assassination technique dragged him towards the direction of the Underworld Room, and straightened him to his knees. This was right before kneeling herself.

“Yuyi pays respects to Grandmother,” she began. “Grandmother, the intruder has been brought here, as requested.”

The woman seated within the Underworld Room smiled, causing a gasp from Wei Wuxian’s direction. “Are you well, Yuyi?”

“I am well, many thanks to Grandmother for your concern.”

“That is true. A mere troublemaker is no trouble to our future Sect Leader. So... this is the intruder.”

Grandmother...? That must be-

Wei Wuxian stared at the woman who was Lan Yi’s grandmother, who by extension was Lan An’s cultivation partner, the person for whom Lan An had entered the mortal world to meet. The strings that bound his hands grew slippery, and the rush of blood in his ears seemed to compete with the thunder that his heart was making.

The woman was obviously a cultivator, and one with the strength to maintain herself at the peak condition no matter the passage of time. “What a handsome youth,” she murmured. “Yuyi, you can untie him now.”

“Yes.”

The strings promptly fell away, letting Wei Wuxian’s hands fall to his sides.

“Do have a cup of tea,” she continued to offer a handle-less cup.

Hands shaking, the warmth of the cup did nothing for his clammy hands, even as he slammed the cup into his face, causing the high-grade Biluochun to spill down the front of his robes. The cup bounced off the tiled floor and lay to one side.

For once in his life, Wei Wuxian understood why a monk would leave the temple and enter the red dust of the mortal world.

“So, for what reason would someone enrage the local ghosts?” Madam Lan continued chatting.

“I was stopping a flood!” Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet in realisation. “Er, Madam Lan... this junior Wei Wuxian pays his respects to the Old Ancestor. I am... a cultivation partner of your great-great-great... anyway, I am a cultivation partner of your blood descendant. Please believe me, I walked into the fog and got lost and ended up here...”

“Lost in the fog,” the Lan matriarch nodded in understanding. “This effect has been known to happen. ‘Up in this mountain, but where, I cannot tell; for there the clouds are deep and dense can be’. The increased presence of water invited a countering bore from the dragon’s vein upon which the Cloud Recesses sits, resulting in a counter-flow – of time, as it stands.”

Wei Wuxian had heard of going against the flow, but to be honest, he hadn't thought that it would mean going against the flow of _time_. “Ah?! Then isn’t the Cloud Recesses in danger every time it rains?!”

“That would depend on when the Cloud Recesses were actually built,” was the woman’s delicate answer as the door flew open.

“Old Madam, the Sect Chief is outside.”

“Invite him in,” she ordered.

Wei Wuxian turned his head, and was immediately dumbstruck at the sight of an upside-down mass of robes. “Huh?”

The woman slowly looked away, or at anything but the man. “Why did you not mention that he was doing this?” she asked the announcer.

“I- My apologies, Madame.”

“Very well, you may stand down.” With a sigh, the woman then scolded: “We have guests, my husband.”

“I was too excited!” The man who had been walking on handstand put his feet to the ground, before his hands started gesticulating. “My wife, this is the first time that I finally have hope for our descendants. I worried if our descendants in the future would have trouble marrying if they persist on increasing the number of rules. Oh, Ah-Yi is here!”

“Grandfather,” Lan Yi’s polite greeting and salute fell, alongside the crashing of Wei Wuxian’s entire world-view.

“We have a guest, my husband.” Lan Yi’s grandmother spoke with a kind of long-suffering patience mixed with affection. “He has the family’s forehead ribbon in his hair.”

“Oh?” Lan An turned to study Wei Wuxian with a smile on his face. “Oh. It’s true! Our Lan clan actually managed to get someone married!”

Wei Wuxian: “...”

Right now in his heart, Wei Wuxian was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to laugh. _I really want to tell Old Man Lan about this... but i_ _f Old Mister Lan_ _knew that the Lan founder was actually_ _like this, I don’t know how he would react. Would he immediately die of a heart attack, or would he just blame me and say that I was lying?_

“This young master also has the ghost radical in his surname, I assume,” Lan An then continued.

“Yes...” Wei Wuxian frowned. “Hold on, how did you know?”

“Ah, how sad,” Lan An continued. “Your partner came looking for you. We just sent him off.”

* * *

Wei Wuxian only understood about half of Lan An’s explanation, but as it turns out, Lan Mei – “Little Mei, our great-great-great-grandsons actually found someone to marry! Even if it’s a man! Do we need to give him the-” – had reached the end of her patience with regards to her husband’s antics and summarised it to Wei Wuxian. The summary had been delivered while Lan An was given the Silence Spell and then directed to the side.

Her summary was: the floating mass of water had been reversed by some act of providence, and Lan Wangji had returned to the Cloud Recesses only to find Wei Wuxian missing. He had then returned to search the mountain, worrying when he only found Wei Wuxian’s missing hair-tie stuck on a hanging tree-branch, and then had gotten lost in the heavy mists only to stumble by the Frost Room and get arrested by his own ancestor much earlier than Wei Wuxian had arrived.

“Moved by his dedication to his cultivation partner, we invested all of my spiritual power to send him off!” Lan An continued once he was released from the Silence Spell. “Fortunately he had something of yours, so I used that intimate object to send him where you would be, as he specified. Of course, now our priority is to direct you back to your future.”

“This...”

“Time would run differently depending on where you stand,” Lan Mei concurred. “You departed earlier than your cultivation partner, yet you arrived later than him. If we delay, the change in points of time grows, and you could be sent back to a century later from your original time. The legend of Mt Lanke is a cautionary tale of time differences.”

“Oh, then I must trouble Madame Lan,” Wei Wuxian sighed in his heart. _Lan Zhan, why did you fall into the mists like this?_ _I would’ve found my way back sooner or later,_ _it’s not like they call me the Yiling Patriarch for nothing!_

“I can’t use any spiritual power for the time being, so I must trouble my wife~” Lan An gave another smile with shades of Lan Xichen within.

“Then, the husband should prepare the materials for the ritual,” Lan Mei replied without missing a beat.

“As my wife wishes,” Lan An cheerfully left.

“I... I feel like my world-view...” Wei Wuxian muttered.

Lan Mei smiled at him, and said, “My husband’s reputation as an eminent monk exceeds the extent to which his proclivities are known.”

“...ah.”

“You say that the JieJue Grandmaster has descended once more?” Lan Mei spoke without missing a beat.

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian nodded.

“Yuyi, go to the Ancient Room and get out that thing,” Lan Mei ordered without missing a beat. “Then find your grandfather.”

“Yes, Grandmother.” Lan Yi saluted and left.

Wei Wuxian was left alone, quailing before such a peerless countenance. “Er... Old Ancestor... the two of you fought against Hong Yuexia before, as I understand...”

“...I have gratitude for him for the love and care in my childhood.” Lan Mei raised her sleeve to cover half of a jade-like cheek.

Seeing how in her distress she looked so lovely and moving, Wei Wuxian could not help but feel compassion towards her. “This...”

“Hong Yuexia is older than the hundreds of years you fell through in order to come here,” Lan Mei began without preamble. “A pioneer of cultivation, even what Yuyi managed to piece together from the tales of him would secure her future as Sect Chief of the Gusu Lan Sect. The overwhelming power of creation which comes from him... it is a fate which cannot be denied.”

 _So Lan Yi had_ _invented the Chord Assassination from tales about Hong Yuexia...?_ Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Old Ancestor, then the strange events...”

“I have heard something of this from...Wangji.” Lan Mei inclined her head. “He was worried that you may have been drawn into these events.”

“HanGuang-Jun is an honourable man,” Wei Wuxian suddenly felt the need to defend Lan Wangji from his ancestor’s misunderstanding. “I do not think that... the Young Sect Leader knows.”

“Yuyi did not meet him,” Lan Mei corrected. “The old Sect Chief and I intend to take this secret to our graves. After all, all those events came by design.”

“...” Wei Wuxian’s brow furrowed. “Someone intentionally brought about a time reverse-flow? Why? And how?”

“What you seek are part of the same thing.” Lan Mei’s hand spread out, delicate as jade. “Assume a connection between all five events, regardless of how far apart they are. Lotus overgrowth, drought, earthquakes, flowers turning into gold, and now a flood. Do those suggest something to you?”

“This junior is foolish and hopes for the old ancestor to enlighten.”

“Why such a rush?” Lan Mei sighed. “The Wu Xing.”

As she smiled, it was as if a divine light shone. “Wu Xing? Wu Xing!”

Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet. “They correspond to the Five Phases! Wood and plants flourishing... then drought and Fire are connected. Earthquakes and gold correspond to earth and metal, and finally what else but Water can a flood refer to?”

“Furthermore, the order of events also correspond to matter growing, prospering, changing, declining, and dying,” Lan Mei agreed. “Hong Yuexia and his associates are creating something, a living thing which must go through all five phases. Except, that the last phase did not quite succeed, unless... they were never aiming for something literal.”

“So... they always intended for someone to fall into the mists and get lost?” Wei Wuxian frowned.

“Hong Yuexia’s speciality is threading the needle,” Lan Mei said. “To kill him required an act of fate itself, multiple curses acting at the same moment, acting within a small window of opportunity, as well as the lives of thousands of cultivators, while he was distracted. Even then, I always knew it was temporary. This is why once I die, the Lan Sect will institute a memory curse of me.”

“What?!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.

A memory curse was the sort of punishment where the person was completely wiped from history. No official record was permitted to mention the person, nor was a grave marker or tablet allowed, and bare genealogies would never record the name. No wonder her name was never taught, Wei Wuxian realised. Why else would the Gusu Lan Sect leave out the name of one half of their founders? Especially since this figure was so important to the formation of their Sect.

“Come along,” Lan Mei had risen to her feet. “You have a thousand years to cross to find your husband.”

“A thousand years... ah, I see, nice,” Wei Wuxian laughed. It was only several hundred years, but the slight joke and the impending return lifted his spirits. “So... since Hong Yuexia is back, what would he do?”

“...” Lan Mei walked a few footsteps to lead him in silence, before she finally spoke: “He... Hong Yuexia by himself is not terrifying. He is omnipotent, but that omnipotence is limited. Being able to do everything also includes being able to fail at doing everything. It is the resources and motivations who seek to push Hong Yuexia further who are to be feared.”

Again, Lan Mei paused, before she slowly spoke: “When... he died... I did not understand then why he had to die. But... he truly did hope for cultivation to advance from his roots. Now, though, his need to repay his revenge on the clans who killed him will wash all the lands in blood.”

“I think he was disappointed too,” Wei Wuxian admitted, scratching his nape.

“...take this!” Lan Mei quickly pressed a piece of paper in his hand, which he unfolded only to see a symbol of a black crow. “If it still exists in your time, the Crow Terrace should have information on Hong Yuexia and his associates. If it does not, I cannot help you much further. You must make sure that the Lan clan survives, do you understand?”

“Oh, oh!” Wei Wuxian put it away into his robes. “I... thank you.”

They came to a magnolia tree by the Library Pavilion, Lan An already presiding over a _qin_ table laid out with a _guqin_. Lan Yi stood by him, carrying a wooden box which she offered to Lan Mei.

From within, Lan Mei took out what resembled a bamboo tube with a rope dangling from it – Wei Wuxian recognised it as a crudely-made signal flare.

“This tube contains a one-time use of his strongest technique, Stars Surrounding the Moon,” she confessed. “I had intended for this technique to be set off at the funeral, but I held on, unsure as to the wisdom of it. Now, though, you are returning to your time to face against Hong Yuexia himself – you will require all the help you can get to survive him.”

“This kind of gift...” the hairs on Wei Wuxian’s neck stood on end at the sheer volume of power this tiny tube like a firecracker contained. “So, Hong Yuexia is that powerful?”

“Yes,” Lan An and Lan Mei stated without hesitation.

Wei Wuxian wilted.

“Stand under the tree,” Lan Yi stated, brow furrowed. “Using the tree’s growth as a marker, we should be able to send you down the tree’s future existence to found your way back to your time.”

“I thank you,” Wei Wuxian stood under the tree, whose branches now bore flags and multiple talismans. A light floral scent drifted down.

“From here onwards,” Lan Mei said as the flags began to glow, “there is no turning back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character profile: Lan Yi (蓝翼)
> 
> Lan Yi is in canon the grand-daughter of Lan An, and the creator of the Chord Assassination technique. I gave her the courtesy name Yuyi (羽翼) because the Gusu Lan Sect strikes me as a sect which focuses on propriety a lot.


	3. Thousands Pounds Hang By a Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please support me on my Tumblr!](https://lalunaticscribe.tumblr.com)

Falling through the mists of time went only as far as being bodily pushed through, for, as Lan Mei said it, “A thread joins you throughout the myriad years.”

As an extension of the phrase ‘a fate match across a thousand _li_ is joined by a thread’, this was a ridiculous extension. Yet as the flowing clouds tugged at his body and light glowed too strongly to see anything, Wei Wuxian could not react at all.

Then he dropped, into a scene of carnage.

The flowing clouds had given way to the smog of burning rock oil, tongues of flames licking at the centuries-old buildings and trees and forestry. Already men in sackcloth and ashes – er, the disciples of the Gusu Lan Sect were rescuing stacks of books and bamboo scrolls down a long corridor to Wei Wuxian’s right.

Wei Wuxian slowly turned around to behold the crown jewel of the Library Pavilion and the unlucky magnolia which was now a standing candle.

_I forgot! The Cloud Recesses had been burnt once!_

“Get the books!”

Without thinking, Wei Wuxian had already put Chenqing to his lips to play a shrill note.

Over the mountains of Gusu, the echo resonated throughout, the granite cliffs silent reflections of the haunting note. The fallen disciples began to twitch, before the Wen disciples began to rise and claw at their once-brethren.

“Corpse transformation!”

“That’s not possible! On such a scale?!”

“Kill them! Kill them all!”

“OI! Lan donkeys! We’re cleaning up the place so that it’s reborn from the firelight, and you’re still rescuing your books?! Stop! Halt!”

The head of the Wen contingent hollered at the top of his voice, only to nearly get clawed by one of the turned Wen corpses. This was followed by a flash of bright blue-white which scratched through the flame-patterned sleeve and through his shoulder.

“Lan Wangji!”

The Library Pavilion... the first one burnt, right?

Wei Wuxian ran around, only to see a host of ten Wen cultivators bodily tackle the white guardian of the Library before one of them swung his cudgel down with a sick _crack_.

“Die, Wen dogs!” Wei Wuxian took the string of the tube that Lan Mei had given him, and pulled the string. “Ah?”

Despite being in daylight, the curtain of night had been drawn, the shadows pierced by the faint orange glow of the burning library. One disciple in white shouted, with a crash announcing that he had tripped and fallen. Overhead the stars and moon glittered in the veil of darkness.

“This...” Wei Wuxian swallowed. The Moon hung overhead, a luminous pearl whose light shone over the whole of the Cloud Recesses, and the flames ceased as if frozen and snuffed out.

“T- The day turned into night!” Wen Xu exclaimed. “Lan thieves! If this isn’t a conspiracy, what else is this? This is a strike against the sun, against the Qishan Wen Sect! None of you will live! Men-!”

A thundering whistle ended with a dramatic slam as a star fell onto him. The stars began to fall from above, a sight wondrous and awesome in sheer scope if not for the fact that one was about to hit Lan Wangji.

“Lan-!” Wei Wuxian yelled as the light enveloped him.

With a groan, Lan Wangji stood up, Bichen shining in the dark before it cut through three Wen cultivators.

“Healing power?” Wei Wuxian’s eyes fell to the smoking tube in his hands, the smoke spiralled out in an array.

The energies of the Sun and Moon continued against the backdrop of night, the stars falling down from the heavens to eradicate the Wen cultivators. More lights glittered as Wen cultivators turned around and tried to fly out, only for another star to catch onto them in fiery explosions.

“Lodged for the night at the Summit Temple, one can touch at arm’s reach the stars so nigh,” Wei Wuxian read the floating poem within the smoky array. Amidst the explosions, fires ceased, and the Moon and stars shone over the Cloud Recesses.

“Yet dare not raise my voice in speech, for fear to disturb the beings up high.”1

As Wei Wuxian finished reading, the bombardment of falling stars began to slow as night gave way to the brightness of day, leaving behind the stark sight of charred Wen corpses and dazed Lan cultivators in its wake. It was easy to see who was Lan and who was Wen; not a single Wen cultivator had been left alive.

* * *

Far away up on a celestial mountain that nobody had heard of, the cultivator Baoshan-Sanren glanced up at the skies, towards the direction of Gusu.

“Lodged for the night at the Summit Temple, one can touch at arm’s reach the stars so nigh; yet dare not raise my voice in speech, for fear to disturb the beings up high.”

After murmuring the poem, she drew in a long breath.

“Hong Yuexia... you still came back in the end. You decrepit, undying _monster_...” she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I am not like I was back then... I have gained immortality. The affairs of the mortal dust are behind me. You... why did you come back again?! Haven’t you had had enough?”

“Teacher?” a young boy in the robes of a Taoist priest came up to her. “The skies darkened... what is it? Have you seen something portentous?”

“...the curtain of night fell, and the stars themselves fell from the skies to serve one who stands under the Moon.” She closed her eyes. “Xingchen.”

“Your disciple is here,” said the young boy.

“If I were to tell you that the outside world of cultivators would face certain doom, would you still go?”

Xiao Xingchen said: “Disciple must then depart quickly to warn them of the incoming danger.”

“Even if the cultivation world would deserve it?”

“This... this disciple is foolish, and does not understand Teacher’s meaning...”

Baoshan-Sanren softened, sighing: “A long, long time ago, I helped to kill my younger martial-uncle.”

“This...” Xiao Xingchen paused. “For Teacher to have killed one’s relations for the greater good-”

“He was the only one closest to cultivation in the past five hundred years then,” Baoshan-Sanren continued. “He had yet to reach immortality, but he already could play with the lives of men... no, I think he stayed on earth despite his high cultivation because he loved the mortal world too much. No matter how many disputes, no matter what misfortunes he and his peers faced, they advanced bravely on the broad road that all future cultivators would follow. They were the pioneers which laid out the broad road of cultivation that is the orthodox way.”

“Then...” Xiao Xingchen paused.

“Why did I help to kill him?” Baoshan-Sanren asked for him.

“May Teacher bestow a lesson.”

“The Book of the Way says that ‘you could walk the way, but it would be an irregular way’,” Baoshan-Sanren reflected. “What the pioneers taught was that each person had their own way to follow, and it was best for these paths to coexist. They... _we_ feared that they were permitting evils to roam free in the world. So I helped the world to kill him, only to find that the world has suffered for it.”

Xiao Xingchen remained silent.

“He has returned, and for this a storm will rage through the cultivation world,” Baoshan-Sanren shivered. “Few will survive. After all, that person... can really hold a grudge.”

* * *

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the stench of rock oil and charred meat still hung around, and Wei Wuxian had been dragged to the front pavilion to be interrogated by two equally stoic men.

“While the Gusu Lan Sect is indeed extremely grateful for the assistance of... the Supreme Lord Evil Patriarch of Yiling...” Lan Qiren looked to the side, “...the request to study our Library Pavilion would require some time. We are of course prepared to compensate your trouble...”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian was smiling on the outside.

Inside he was actually screaming: _**** what do I do I accidentally set off a weapon meant to deal with Hong Yuexia and wow how much firepower is needed to deal with one person_ _but now they’re suspecting me they totally suspect me I’m a walking time bomb to them._ _You’re guarding against this, old man, but you’d never suspect what I actually want!..._

“In that case...”

Here Wei Wuxian stumbled, unable to decide. Dusk-Creek Mountain? Lotus Pier? Could he afford to change the past?

“Yiling Patriarch?” Lan Qiren’s sharp voice brought him back to his senses.

 _Right now I’m not the troublemaker Wei Wuxian,_ he realised. _I’m a rogue cultivator who passed by and happened to just slaughter an entire Wen army. Now that I’ve seen Hong Yuexia’s power and the reason why he needs to... he is too powerful for the cultivation world to allow._

Wei Wuxian was actually a proponent of acting for justice, or at least he had been. He still was, but over the years the accumulated experiences of his life had culminated in an understanding, that though an individual may set out to act in the best interests of everyone, the will of an individual was too easily subverted and turned to other things over time, and the more powerful the individual the greater the tendency for power to corrupt absolutely.

 _Hong Yuexia is summoned to the Princess’s body three years after my death – somewhere in the 28 th year of the Xuanzheng era,_ Wei Wuxian recalled.  _Assuming that nothing changed on that side... wait, the Princess’s Kingdom of Ling has its capital Luoyang within a thousand li of Qishan. The Qishan Wen Sect obviously protects that area, but... once they fell, events led to the Princess Shuiyue getting sacrificed to summon Hong Yuexia. So... either way, Hong Yuexia is not the most direct threat right now! So, as the Yiling Patriarch, stranded in this time, I... should get the in-laws on my side!_

Lan Qiren and the man seated next to him exchanged identical looks of confusion. Hesitating was not the mark of a wandering swordsman – it could mean someone with ulterior motives. Despite the Lan clan not involving themselves much, they were still one of the five great cultivator clans, and recent events had just proven a need to act with much caution.

A thought occurred to him, and Wei Wuxian smiled. “Then, may I trouble your clan for passage to... Yunmeng?”

“Yunmeng?” Lan Qiren repeated in relief, before looking at the other and realising his lack of a sword. “I see. Then, this senior would-”

“I believe that I should deliver the Patriarch to Yunmeng,” the other man from the Gusu Lan Sect spoke at last.

_Whoa, who’s this person? Grand-uncle? No, wait, not even the greatest of elders would interrupt Mister Lan like this._

“Brother?” Lan Qiren was taken aback, which confirmed Wei Wuxian’s thoughts.

“Wangji is still nursing a broken leg, and the recovery of our books is of paramount importance since the spring rain would ruin them,” QingHeng-Jun said. “Delivering someone a thousand _li_ is still within my ability, Qiren.”

“...as you say, Brother.” Lan Qiren said after a brief geological epoch where his world seemed to rearrange itself.

Wei Wuxian actually felt for the old Lan Qiren in an instance – _QingHeng-Jun you were injured and died last time due to the Wen cultivators forcing you people to burn down the Cloud Recesses, so what are you thinking this time?!_ _Is ZeWu-Jun the only normal Sect Chief of the Lan clan I’ll ever meet?_

“Then...”

“Let us go, then, Patriarch of Yiling.” QingHeng-Jun rose, and for a moment Wei Wuxian saw the heroic aura which must have defined his reputation before what was considered his greatest mistake. “The storm is brewing, and there is no turning back.”

Wei Wuxian’s footsteps hesitated, and he furrowed his brow at the back of QingHeng-Jun. Lan Mei had also said that ‘there is no turning back’, so... did he know, or did he guess it? Was it a coincidence? Or was Lan Mei nice enough to write down something telling all future Sect Chiefs about him?

Wei Wuxian could actually visualise the Lan founder writing down in seal script something along the lines of ‘my ‘how-many-greats’ grandson-in-law is lost through time, please do help point him back to his era’ or something equally ridiculous which would still be memorised in the clan histories.

Lan Wangji was waiting outside, and he gave a salute the moment they walked up. “Father,” his brow furrowed.

“Wangji, I am glad to see that you are well.”

Wei Wuxian was not up to the standards of Lan Xichen’s fraternal telepathy, but he could still see a hint of confusion, joy, and lots of worry. “Yo, Second Young Master Lan,” he purred.

“This...” Centuries of manners have bred true in Lan Wangji’s twitch.

“Ah, this is our Sect’s benefactor, the Supreme Lord Evil Patriarch of Yiling,” QingHeng-Jun said.

 _QingHeng-Jun, I applaud your manliness in being able to say that with a straight face!_ Wei Wuxian thought in his mind.  _So, someone tell me is this a side-effect of him being shocked out of seclusion, or is this his true personality once away from ol’ fuddy-duddy?_

“He has requested passage to Yunmeng, and quickly, for lack of a personal sword,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “I have volunteered to escort him there. Wangji, you are injured and should rest.”

“Father, my injury recovered in the...” Lan Wangji paused, uncertain how to phrase ‘magical falling stars which killed all the enemies’.

“The Wen clan will not rest, now that we have killed Wen Ruohan’s eldest,” QingHeng-Jun shook his head. “Wangji, in the absence of Xichen you must assist your uncle in hiding the books. Once you are done please do bring a message to Sect Chief Nie on my behalf, that the Lan clan will be fighting back the Qishan Wen Sect. If he is not lost to the sabre of slaughter he should know what to do.”

“Understood.”

“Then once you are done please do send reinforcements to Yunmeng. It is likely that Lotus Pier may meet a similar fate soon.”

“F- Father?” Lan Wangji was taken aback.

“What?” Wei Wuxian started. “QingHeng-Jun, how did you know that?”

“The Wen Sect’s strategy of annexing the sects all across the land from west to east has divided the realm,” QingHeng-Jun analysed. “This isolates both the Yunmeng Jiang Sect and Qinghe Nie Sect, while also allowing the Wen Sect to supply Qinghe, Lanling and Gusu through the Yellow River. The next step is to target the Sects along the Long River, yet since our presence would disrupt their plans they planned to drive us out of Gusu for this. So, to seize the Long River, after seizing Nanyang, their next target must be Yunmeng.”

“Father is wise!” Lan Wangji left after stating those words.

Wei Wuxian: “…”

 _As someone from the future, of course I know this fact now,_ Wei Wuxian thought.  _But, QingHeng-Jun, you really weren’t plotting against the Wen Sect in seclusion? If you could figure this out moments after stepping out of seclusion, I can only believe that Wen Xu was actually sent to make sure you died rather than a random annexation..._

“Come along then, Patriarch from Yiling,” QingHeng-Jun inclined his admittedly handsome head. “Yunmeng awaits you.”

* * *

Dusk-Creek Mountain.

There was a hole in the ground, hidden quite well beneath an old banyan tree with a trunk as large as the hug of three men. It was rather small, not even five feet in width, and thick, tangled roots and vines wove a firm veil over it, trapping leaves and branches, mud and stone, into some wooded sentinel over it.

A blue flash of light cut through the wood and stone, and a white shadow walked through.

The entrance led underground, a cold breeze whispering past the white shadow as he floated upon his sword through into the cave. Finally, the silhouette alighted above a deep pool of water, wide enough to be a vast lake, a black mirror punctured with islets of stone scattered around.

“Oh, you have come.”

The figure in white paused.

“Do you pity this beast?” The speaker continued without missing a beat, turning his head. Under a head of nearly groomed white hair affixed in a topknot and a simple hairpin, there was an incredibly mismatched youthful face. “I was there during its birth. I pity its failure and inability to reach divinity.”

“You know of this Xuanwu of Slaughter?” the figure in white demanded. “Who are you?”

“This penniless priest has the cultivational name of Gaoxuan, titled as a Zhenren,” said the other.

“...you are Wu Shuijing?”

“That is this penniless priest.”

The sword immediately flew at him, if a large floating octagonal mirror the size of a big tray did not deflect the floating sword away with a _clink_.

“Bichen?” Wu Shuijing commented as the octagonal mirror floated back by its master. “As far as I know, the Second Young Master Lan is still in Gusu. Furthermore... the young master is seventeen, if I recall correctly. You... are older, so you went against the flow of time? So, you an older Lan Wangji, from the future. And I did something against you.”

“Not me,” Lan Wangji growled. “My cultivation partner. You stabbed him.”

“Very well, I submit myself to your will,” Wu Shuijing admitted before the mirror descended into the black lake. “That is, if you can _find_ me.”

So saying, he fell back into the waters, and they swallowed him without a splash.

A maple leaf floated by, bobbing on the waves like a searing firelight. Below the leaves, a pair of glowing orbs grew larger and larger, nearer and nearer, before the Xuanwu of Slaughter raised its head to snap at Lan Wangji.

Across the edge of the lake, the octagonal mirror rose, carrying a dry Wu Shuijing away from the ensuing fight. “If he already knows about this beast, then I must tell the others. We cannot use it as a catalyst anymore...”

* * *

**1 A translation of [this Chinese poem](http://chinesepoemsinenglish.blogspot.com/2011/11/li-bai-written-at-summit-temple-lodged.html).**


	4. Hang By a Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please support me on my Tumblr!](https://lalunaticscribe.tumblr.com)

Long years in seclusion had not affected QingHeng-Jun much, thus Wei Wuxian reached Yunmeng upon the sunset. Lotus Pier was now draped in purple and darkening gold, the wide lake of lotuses twinkling brocade under the crepuscular as a wind blew. As QingHeng-Jun lowered them towards the docks around Lotus Pier.

“Is this QingHeng-Jun’s first time visiting the Lotus Pier?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“No, I have come before... many things change,” came the steady reply before they dismounted to the ground.

The vendors by the entrance of Lotus Pier were already bustling in preparation for dinner and the evening rush, selling seed pods, water chestnuts and all kinds of pastries. The children were running home, giggles filled the air with the patter of their footsteps.

QingHeng-Jun pressed a bag whose extreme weight for its size indicated that it was a Qiankun bag. “This is a small appreciation from the Cloud Recesses. The road is long and dangerous, some provisions would not go amiss.”

Wei Wuxian cautiously took the package. “These... then, I will accept. Thank you.”

“We parts ways here then, Patriarch of Yiling.” QingHeng-Jun made a salute with clasped hands.

“Ah, yeah... Ah, QingHeng-Jun!” Wei Wuxian suddenly exclaimed as QingHeng-Jun made to leave. “Are you returning to the Cloud Recesses now? The Yunmeng Jiang Sect are very hospitable here.”

“It is impolite to drop in without notice,” was the patient reply. “Furthermore, Xichen’s whereabouts are unknown.”

Wei Wuxian pondered on it. Lan Xichen at this time had been saved by Meng Yao, which was the beginnings of their extremely close and intimate relationship. “Then, may fates allow us to meet again.”

As QingHeng-Jun slowly turned and walked away, Wei Wuxian froze, almost disbelieving his eyes as a shadow of Lan Wangji seemed to cross his vision. “Ah... I actually saw this ‘father-in-law’ already... now, how do I convince Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu...?”

“Lan Zhan!” The cry drew his attention for a split second, before Wei Wuxian caught himself after running ten steps. Lan Wangji was not there.

QingHeng-Jun was there instead, giving a blank look towards two young cultivators in the purple uniform of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.

“Eh, Lan Zhan, you finally took up my offer to come to Yunmeng!”

 _Heavens_ , Wei Wuxian thought in his heart, _of all the people to meet..._

“This young master,” QingHeng-Jun slowly said, “we-”

“It’s too late to go shooting kites, and it’s not pheasant season either, so come along! You can stay in my room at Lotus Pier!” Wei Ying obliviously continued. “ _Shijie_ makes the best lotus root pork rib soup!”

“...Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng spoke as Wei Wuxian made a motion about to put his hand on QingHeng-Jun’s shoulder. “I... don’t think that’s Lan Wangji.”

“...My second son Wangji would appreciate the offer, I thank you on his behalf,” QingHeng-Jun said in the ensuing silence. “As for the offer of sharing your rooms, it is too terrible an inconvenience on yourself, young master.”

The kite dropped from Wei Ying’s back.

 _...QingHeng-Jun definitely suspects something between Lan Zhan and myself now!!!_ Wei Wuxian felt like killing himself on a block of tofu.  _We’re finished!!! Not even jumping into the Lotus Lake would get us clean now!_

* * *

“Kneel down!”

“OWWW! Jiang Cheng, save me!”

 _Bzzt_.

Wei Wuxian dispassionately watched the flashes of purple outside the ancestral hall that he was technically not allowed to enter as a guest.  _Making fun of your own father-in-law, you’re just asking for death! If I had actually done that..._

His waist began to exhibit phantom aches just at the thought. _Luckily my Lan Zhan isn’t here, and little fuddy-duddy is back at the Cloud Recesses..._ _I wanna bring him here._

Having followed QingHeng-Jun into Lotus Pier, it was a strange experience standing in familiar surroundings as a stranger, where the fires of war had yet to rage and the tragedy yet to soak into the loamy wet soil.

Yet he could not enter as Wei Wuxian – the Yiling Patriarch was a wayward friend called Yuandao, and who knew how much of history had already been displaced.

“Ah-Xian has offended Sect Chief Lan, I apologise on his behalf,” Jiang Fengmian saluted over the small evening party hosted to receive QingHeng-Jun. “We did not expect that Sect Chief Lan has come out of seclusion.”

“The Wen Sect sought to burn the Cloud Recesses,” was QingHeng-Jun’s stoic reply. “Wen Ruohan must have the utmost respect for the Gusu Lan Sect, to have sent his eldest son to burn down our Library Pavilion.”

Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu had identical looks of shock.

“It was only thanks to... this friend of the Dao... that our home survived,” QingHeng-Jun changed his standard reply after Wei Wuxian gesticulated far too much to be overlooked. “My eldest son was ordered to take our most precious records and escape, his whereabouts unknown. Wangji’s leg was almost broken too. I am in the midst of executing our gesture of appreciation for our benefactor.”

“I see that this friend of the Dao is a young hero, and offer a drink in respect,” Jiang Fengmian saluted.

 _Uncle Jiang!!!_ Wei Wuxian returned the salute and respects while internally screaming. Was it better to look at Jiang Fengmian, or better to look at the younger him who was the worse for wear after that beating? It was a question for the ages.

“Of course, I do not believe the Wen Sect will pause here,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “I cannot quite compare to my younger brother, but the Cloud Recesses has a strong tradition within the education of young cultivator gentlemen. With us currently indisposed, this is a chance for them to claim further influence that they crave, sending out envoys to demand hostages from the cultivator sects.”

“They’re taking it too far!” Jiang Cheng burst out.

“Ah-Cheng!” Madam Yu remonstrated.

“ _Mom_!”

Jiang Fengmian was sitting at the foremost seat: “QingHeng-Jun, you came here on such short notice, to ally with us to resist the Wen Sect? You have spent long years in seclusion, and only now do you come out?”

“In a chaotic world, are we left to our own choices?” QingHeng-Jun posed the question. “This is a gamble to survive.”

* * *

It was a quiet QingHeng-Jun that Wei Wuxian saw staring at the Lotus Lake under the half-moon. Within the faint moonlight, he was every bit the immortal descended from the heavens. Wei Wuxian could almost fool himself that the man in white was his lover and not his ‘father-in-law’.

“Yuandao, you are here,” QingHeng-Jun acknowledged.

“It’s almost the hour of the boar,” Wei Wuxian pointed out. “Your Gusu Lan Sect has a strict schedule, right?”

“Rules... en, yes,” QingHeng-Jun acknowledged in thought. “I will receive my punishment when I go back.”

“Unable to sleep? This... this Patriarch will keep QingHeng-Jun company then,” Wei Wuxian stood next to QingHeng-Jun. “What are you thinking?”

“...the Lanling Jin Sect stands between Gusu and Qinghe,” QingHeng-Jun stated. “In order to provide support, it is best to get Lanling on our side. However... the Lanling Jin Sect has no reason to ally with us, especially since the Eldest Young Master Jin will most likely be going to Qishan for ‘re-education’ as the Wen Sect claims.”

“So you’re worried about that opportunist Jin Guangshan switching sides, and you’re not sure how to deal with him,” Wei Wuxian commented. “For someone in the Lan family, you’re defying the rule about being righteous a lot.”

“... the rules do not protect anyone. It is people who protect the rules. Those rules include not only the written codes of rites and punishments, but also the unwritten conducts and expectations.”

QingHeng-Jun shook his head, momentarily lost in thought. “I spent too long in my own thoughts, and only as my home burned did I realise this too late. My companion has returned to the heavens and my children grown, the barest of duties as a father I have done.”

The curve of his hand was illuminated under the moon. “I am sorry, Yuandao,” he said, “to have burdened you with my woes.”

“No, not at all,” Wei Wuxian looked down. _My Lan Zhan, I w_ _ish_ _you were here with us._

“So... what act against the rules were you thinking?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“Nobody is born to win the hunt, that’s why the phrase ‘heroes hunting deer’ describes the vying for supremacy,” QingHeng-Jun observed. “The Yunmeng Jiang Sect faces the Long River, and after claiming Nanyang, the Wen Sect must take Yunmeng in order to advance along the southern front. We of the Gusu Lan Sect are prepared to ally with the Qinghe Nie Sect to fight on the northern front along the Yellow River. The Yunmeng Jiang Sect and the clans under it, is currently in the most danger out of us all. Yet Lanling lies between Gusu and Qinghe, so if Lanling defects to the Wen Sect then the Gusu Lan Sect will be fighting on two fronts.”

“So we need the Lanling Jin Sect on our side,” Wei Wuxian followed QingHeng-Jun to the most logical conclusion.

“Indeed,” QingHeng-Jun acknowledged. “Furthermore, we need them to enter the war quickly. Yet the Qishan Wen Sect has intelligent people, they would not fail to note this. It would take several victories on our side to tip the scales in our favour and get Lanling to side with us. Furthermore, assuming that we survive, the Lanling Jin Sect has the potential to come off with the least damage and the most power to take over the hegemony of the cultivation world. This fact cannot be helped.”

 _This guy is definitely a fortune-teller,_ Wei Wuxian reflected. _But the scariest thing is... he has Lan Zhan’s face but talks so much more!_

“I am searching for my cultivation partner,” Wei Wuxian said at last. “I am willing to volunteer my efforts to your cause. But... QingHeng-Jun, can you keep a secret?”

Eyes as light as glass widened. “Eh?”

“My true name is Wei Wuxian. The young man you saw just now was my younger self. I... am your son’s cultivation partner in the future.”

* * *

“You did not have inappropriate thoughts about Wangji when you were at the Cloud Recesses,” QingHeng-Jun immediately said once Wei Wuxian had finished his explanation.

“How would you know?” Wei Wuxian accused.

“You did not tease him.”

“Did you think it was appropriate at the time?” Wei Wuxian rebutted.

“I would not know,” came the honest reply, “for Qiren does not have good things to mention with regards to Sect Chief Jiang’s most senior disciple.”

Wei Wuxian deflated. “My own sins...” he sighed. “But... QingHeng-Jun, you believe me?”

“Anything is possible on the path to cultivation,” QingHeng-Jun considered. “The timing of your appearance was also fortuitous. I cannot help but believe that our founder had created this serendipitous occurrence merely by chance.”

“Yeah...” Wei Wuxian sighed in relief. The Lan founders had not quite seen fit to note it down.

“As for going against the flow of time... it is not impossible in the theory of cultivation,” QingHeng-Jun noted. “However there is also no conclusive evidence. For now I can give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Then I appreciate QingHeng-Jun’s generosity.”

“When I died...” QingHeng-Jun paused, and frowned, “the Wen Sect followed with attacking Lotus Pier?”

“Amongst others.” Wei Wuxian frowned. “Sect Chief Lan, you do not seem surprised at all.”

“There is nothing to be surprised of,” QingHeng-Jun observed. “Since the Qishan Wen Sect aims for hegemony, they must seize the security of Guanzhong and continue their conquest along the rivers. Yunmeng Jiang Sect is a sect whose skills are superior in one-on-one duels and water battles, but not necessarily on land battles. The seizing of Yunmeng is necessary in order to secure their borders.”

Wei Wuxian drew a breath. “This...”

“They would find an excuse sooner or later,” QingHeng-Jun acknowledged. “Sect Chief Jiang and Madam Yu already know this fact.”

“So, QingHeng-Jun can already guess at the Qishan Wen Sect’s policy?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“The most stable approach would have been to conquer the north first, eliminating the ferocious Qinghe Nie Sect and the extremely wealthy Lanling Jin Sect before turning southwards down to the Long River,” QingHeng-Jun reasoned after some thought. “Our Gusu Lan Sect is not a sect which prioritises the battle arts, for all that we practice the Six Arts, and the rest of the sects down south would be without a leader since the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is absent. Of course, the success of this decision is contingent upon the condition that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is completely destroyed. Of course, this is only a guess.”

“This guess is more than enough,” Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Jiang Cheng... and my younger self would probably be sent to the Qishan Wen Sect.”

“They would not send you all to Nightless City itself,” QingHeng-Jun dismissed. “Even at the heart of the Wen Sect’s territory, an assassin only needs to succeed once. Counting twenty disciples from every sect would add up to approximately two thousand outsider cultivators in Nightless City – not a military force, but large enough to cause a ruckus. Most likely, they would send you young ones to some other place for indoctrination, heavy labour and the like.”

“Dusk-Creek Mountain,” Wei Wuxian paused. “The Xuanwu of Slaughter. Wen Chao was using... back then, Wen Chao was using us to find the Xuanwu of Slaughter which was hibernating in Qishan. Lan Zhan- er, your honoured son Wangji killed the beast at seventeen.”

“Wen Ruohan... how did Wen Ruohan die in the end?” QingHeng-Jun suddenly changed the topic.

“Eh? A spy killed him,” Wei Wuxian replied in confusion. “Jin Guangyao, titled LianFang-Zun, birth name Meng Yao. He was Jin Guangshan’s illegitimate son with a prostitute in Yunmeng. During the Sunshot Campaign, Jin Guangyao hid in the Qishan Wen Sect and reported important information, and later assassinated the Wen Sect’s leader Wen Ruohan. Why?”

“Curiosity.” QingHeng-Jun paused. “This Jin Guangyao sounds like quite a character.”

“Not just that!” Wei Wuxian elaborated. “ZeWu-Jun... er, your son...”

“Yes, I know.”

“Anyway, ChiFeng-Zun... er, the young Sect Chief Nie and ZeWu-Jun both swore an oath of brotherhood with him, and after a long series of events and ChiFeng-Zun dying, Jin Guangyao became the first ever Chief Cultivator,” Wei Wuxian hurried on. “But he’s a real villain to the core, killing his own father, wife, son, ChiFeng-Zun, and his friends... er, not yet, but if the future continues onwards. ZeWu-Jun... killed him in the end.”

Everyone had said at that time that Lan Xichen had placed righteousness before family in stabbing Jin Guangyao. Wei Wuxian had disagreed, because the act of killing Jin Guangyao had also buried Lan Xichen in the guilt of killing Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao, for all his sins, had indeed never harmed Lan Xichen, and their intimacy had implied certain things which were no longer possible.

After a very long silence, QingHeng-Jun shook his head. “It is unwise to judge before knowing all of the facts,” he said. “Also, in a chaotic world it is the ruthless heroes who survive best.”

“Which is why you will need to pull him to your side,” Wei Wuxian said.

“I agree.”

“See- huh?!” Wei Wuxian did a double-take. “Q- QingHeng-Jun... you not only believe me, you’re also in agreement to recruit a ruthless hero?!”

“What capabilities do the Wen Sect have?” A soft smile graced his countenance as QingHeng-Jun shook his head. “The Qishan Wen Sect has its most powerful leader yet in Wen Ruohan, its resources and influence unmatched, its current generation the strongest so far. As Wen Ruohan slowly ages and wastes away, his sons prove themselves unable to compete with their father. The sun risks being overshadowed by the clouds, ignored by the peonies, disregarded by the lotuses; not even the beasts would regard them as the years pass.”

“QingHeng-Jun, I admire your oratory skill!” Wei Wuxian tutted.

“Twilight looms for the Nightless City,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “Wen Ruohan’s sons cannot match up to him, and he himself knows it. This is the only chance in which Wen Ruohan can establish his legacy now as the hegemon of the cultivation world, or risk his main bloodline being annihilated. This is why he is so eager – why he will stop at nothing to place the cultivation world under his hegemony. Nobody in the current society of cultivation can match him in ambition. To match such megalomania requires ambition, in a man whose heart is higher than the heavens, whose attention to detail is great, who is meticulous and able to improvise – it is the drive to do anything to live and thrive in a chaotic world which the cultivation world desperately needs.”

 


	5. One Thread, One Hair

A few days later, three parties set out from Yunmeng. Wei Wuxian, in his disguise as the Yiling Patriarch and still armed with this identity, went in the direction of Yunping City. Jiang Cheng and young Wei Ying along with eighteen disciples of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect set out to meet the Qishan Wen Sect. QingHeng-Jun himself flew south towards the direction of Gusu with one Yiling Patriarch to drop off, a scroll in hand, the pledge of alliance from the Yunmeng Jiang Sect hidden in a Qiankun bag on him.

“My eldest son cannot keep a secret,” QingHeng-Jun had cautioned after dropping Wei Wuxian off before the walls of Yunping City. “I advise you not to tell him more than necessary. A mere two days would not be sufficient to clean up back home – and he would not be needed at home. Please direct him to Lanling once you have found the necessary people.”

“Of course, QingHeng-Jun.”

“And...” QingHeng-Jun shook his head. “I do not know how you would feel if the timeline changes and you have... changed history, in your perspective, but you were... would be... you _are_ a cultivation partner to the main house of the Lan clan. As your father-in-law I therefore order you to observe your own safety.”

Wei Wuxian: “...alright. T- Thank you.”

“Shall I walk you in, then? You look rather unsteady.”

“I’ve been having tunnel vision,” Wei Wuxian complained in a low voice as the pair entered the city. “Trying to see the array within the tube that contained Stars Surrounding the Moon.”

“Sounds interesting,” QingHeng-Jun commented.

“Father-in-law must know how complicated the technique is,” Wei Wuxian teased.

“From what you described, it must first turn night into day,” QingHeng-Jun stated. “Then, the stars must fall, and it must hurt enemies and heal allies at the same time, implying an automatic mechanism of identifying friend and foe. Including that incantation to be triggered upon pulling the string, there must therefore also be a way to draw spiritual energy from the air around it since you have no significant spiritual energy, hence implying that it has a different power source. Now, any of those functions alone takes an array upwards of ten thousand characters, and squeezing all those arrays in one tube implies extremely small handwriting.”

“ _Extremely_ small,” Wei Wuxian gesticulated to indicate how small. From his action, the writing in the tube must have been smaller than a grain of sand.

“Furthermore, since it’s a one-time use, parts of the array may have been destroyed,” QingHeng-Jun continued.

“Father-in-law, why don’t you have any faith in your ‘son-in-law’?” Wei Wuxian teased.

“Because it is techniques like these which threaten the balance of power,” QingHeng-Jun said. “They will hurt you, and everyone else, for it. Using it in war would benefit us, but in peace, it is weapons which hurts peace.”

“...” Wei Wuxian slowly nodded. “Even so, being nice to the enemy is to hurt oneself.”

“There are different ways of being nice,” QingHeng-Jun agreed, before considering the skies of Yunping. “It is time for lunch. I still have a long flight to Gusu.”

Choosing a random inn, the proprietor took one look at QingHeng-Jun and immediately offered them the best private room.

“Is it a Lan ability?” Wei Wuxian commented under his breath. “How come everyone looks at Lan Zhan’s family and thinks, ‘this guy has money and it’s not good to keep him waiting’?”

QingHeng-Jun looked up to glance at him across the table.

“It’s nothing,” Wei Wuxian lied. “Do not talk while eating, I understand.”

“No... I am aware that most disciples try to forget about their experience in the Cloud Recesses once released,” the comment was as dry as dust. “There are Wen cultivators outside.”

Wei Wuxian turned towards the window which QingHeng-Jun had indicated, looking out and down to see a retinue of sun robes.

He sighed as the doors blew open. “So... who’s fighting?”

“Do allow me,” QingHeng-Jun slowly rose. “I am rather rusty. I would appreciate not having to revise my swordsmanship in the middle of the battlefield.”

Wei Wuxian rescued the sweet and sour pork from a passing blade. QingHeng-Jun’s spoon was saved, through the chopsticks unfortunately replaced into a Wen cultivator’s throat. The final and most extreme feat of salvaging dishes that Wei Wuxian had had to suffer was when the wine-vessel had been appropriated as a temporary bludgeon.

“This is the arm strength which has been passed down the Lan line for generations!” was QingHeng-Jun’s final words as the last cultivator was thrown out of the window. He then pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve to wipe his hands before sitting back down at the table to continue eating.

“Please pass the tofu, thank you.”

“I didn’t know that QingHeng-Jun specialised in close combat,” Wei Wuxian observed, passing over the plate.

“It is unwise to draw a sword indoors,” came the stoic answer before QingHeng-Jun indicated towards the terrified waiter outside. “More tea, please.”

* * *

Meanwhile, the hostages under the Wen Sect were suffering as much under the tyranny of Wen Chao’s retinue.

“QingHeng-Jun has already promised to send out men with the Yunmeng Jiang Sect,” Jiang Cheng had announced to every Jiang cultivator. “We just need to hold out for however long he gets here. So, no one make any trouble!”

The so-called “indoctrination” of the Qishan Wen Sect included only handing out copies of  _Quintessence of the Wen Sect_ , along with booklets full of the stories and quotes of the Wen Sect’s past leaders and best cultivators. At this stage, Wei Wuxian was of course the first to get into trouble.

“I just don’t know why you’d put some random entry here!” Wei Ying exclaimed to Jiang Cheng. “Take this guy. Wen You, tenth of the twelve Wen brothers in the same generation as the founder Wen Mao. For his meritorious actions in saving the Qishan Wen Sect his descendants are elevated to a position second only to the main house. It makes no sense! They don’t even mention what he did!”

“Are you too bored to focus on such things?!” Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth as they were driven like livestock toward the next destination of their forced night-hunts–

– Dusk-Creek Mountain.

Within the curtain of night, the quiet extended. The deeper they went into the forest, the larger the shadows which trailed behind them.

After a while, the group met with a creek, red maple leaves scattered like flames in the gurgling waters.

“Brr,” Wei Wuxian shuddered, turning around by chance to see several figures in pure white, surrounded by the sun robes of the Wen Sect.

Lan Wangji and the retinue of Gusu Lan disciples had been under heavy guard since day one. The story of the Cloud Recesses’ burning and the sudden reversal of fates for the Wen assemblage responsible had made it around. Doubtful looks had been directed towards the Gusu Lan assemblage, as if unable to believe that they were still alive.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaimed. “Hi!”

“...” Lan Zhan’s expression froze. “We are not familiar.”

“Oh? Really?” Wei Ying drawled. “QingHeng-Jun passed by Yunmeng, asked us to pass on his regards once he knew about what the Wen-dogs were planning.”

Wei Ying then stood back and watch the cold expression turn conflicted. On one hand, his father had a message. On the other hand, the message came from the known troublemaker and practical joker Wei Ying. Yet, as Lan Zhan was about to speak up, Wei Ying had already turned around to flirt with a female cultivator.

Jiang Cheng watched the handsome face turn dark, before he said: “QingHeng-Jun said that he’s coming with reinforcements to save us. We need to hold out for however long we need.”

“...I see.” Lan Wangji nodded. “Thank you.” After a moment of silence, Lan Wangji continued: “We will assist to the best of our ability.”

“The Yunmeng Jiang Sect isn’t such a pushover either,” Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes in a show of bravery.

“Eh, Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, talk to me!” Wei Ying now came over with a certain need to remind people of his existence.

As they continued to talk, one of the Wen Sect’s servants came over and scolded, “Don’t talk amongst yourselves. Watch what you do!”

“It can’t be helped, I didn’t understand anything about the book and the Gusu Lan Sect has the most complete collection of genealogies,” Wei Wuxian blatantly lied. “Like, exactly what did Wen You do to be recorded in  _Quintessence_?”

The Wen servant hesitated. His brow furrowed, eyes glancing towards the side. “...that is a secret of the main house. Don’t poke your nose in what you don’t understand!”

“Seriously?” Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Wangji. “What kind of secret is that?!”

“Wen You is the tenth of the twelve Wen brothers, of which the Qishan Wen Sect founder Wen Mao is fourth,” Lan Wangji replied. “In the territories of Qishan, they hold the Xianyang area. For performing an unspecified feat, this branch of the Wen clan was allowed to serve on the rear and in support capacities. Wen Qing comes from this branch house.”

“If Wen Mao was the fourth, then how did he found the Wen Sect?”

“His three elder brothers died.” Lan Wangji paused. “Their deaths were apparently his impetus to pass on his ideals and path to his clan over his school – to prevent his family from dying an untimely death.”

“Looks like he overestimated his descendants,” Wei Wuxian muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, someone shouted: “Found it!”

The aim of tonight’s night-hunt was, evidently, a cave in the ground. The dirt and leaves had been pushed aside to reveal the opening, eerie in what little light there was. A cold breeze passed everyone’s faces, sending chills down their backs.

Wen Chao was ecstatic: “This must be it! Quick, everyone, get down there!”

Beside the cave, Jin Zixuan snorted. “You brought us here, saying that we’ll be hunting a beast. Then, if I may ask, what sort of a beast is it? Informing us beforehand would allow us to cooperate with more efficiency, so that we wouldn’t be as confused as last time.”

“Inform you?” Wen Chao gave a greasy laugh, indicating to Jin Zixuan and then himself: “How many times do I have to make myself clear? Don’t get it wrong. You are only the cultivators who serve me. I’m the one who gives the orders. I don’t need others to tell me their suggestions. I am the only one who commands the troops. I am also the only one who can conquer the beast!”

His tone was enough to incite great feelings of homicide in even the mildest-mannered, never mind Jin Zixuan. Yet Jin Zixuan still held back his anger, and grabbed one of the thickest vines trailing down to leap into the hole.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying exchanged looks of commiseration as they followed behind. Since their swords were confiscated, all of the hostages could only crawl down slowly on the vines along the edges. The vines grew as thick as a child’s wrist – it was hard to imagine how deep it had to go.

Another cold breeze blew, along with a wet and rancid stench which drew coughs from the female cultivators and Jin Zixuan.

Wen Chao flew down with his concubine Wang Lingjiao in his arms. After a while, the rest of his cortège followed him, including a man who looked older than the rest, marking him as a late bloomer to cultivation. This was Wen Chao’s main bodyguard, the notorious ‘Core-Melting Hand’, Wen Zhuliu.

The rank stench vanished as the torches burnt, the flames flaring far more than necessary in the cave’s interiors. Everyone was on high alert which boiled over into panic as they came to a deep pool of water.

“Impossible!!” Wen Chao snarled. “Who got here before us?!”

Wei Wuxian: “What a large... tortoise...”

The giant tortoise, if one could equate a monster of such proportions to any common reptile, was large enough to crush Lotus Pier’s martial arts field with its shell.

Yet, someone had bodily yanked the tortoise onto its back and sliced it open, the shell broken in parts and leaking where its internal organs had started putrefying, its flesh bulging in parts. By one side lay the long, winding head of a snake on the other end of it, its mouth filled with yellowed criss-cross fangs. The head was already rotted through. The rank stench had been from the monster’s corpse rotting through.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng breathed. “At least someone got here before us...”

The sound of vomiting made him turn around, to catch Jin Zixuan doubled over by the sidelines. “It stinks...”

“Cowards,” Wen Chao hid his face in his sleeve. “Wen Zhuliu, let’s get the head and go. Father will not question too much about it.”

“And he’s still yanking it back,” Wei Wuxian shuddered. “What d’you think, Lan Zhan?”

Yet Lan Zhan was not looking at him, but at the Wen retinue.

“Wen Zhuliu? How rude, the Young Master is- AHHHH!!” Wang Lingjiao’s scream made everyone turn around.

Wen Zhuliu blinked down at the spot where a blade had just thrust into his heart from behind, and fell down. Nobody needed to check to confirm that he was dead.

“T- This- Protect me!” Wen Chao turned to flee, only to fall down. One of the Wen disciples immediately went to turn him over, revealing that Wen Chao’s throat had been sliced open. With a gurgle, Wen Chao’s eyes turned towards the cave ceiling before they lost all light.

“Dead...” someone whispered.

“He’s dead... the ‘Core-Melting Hand’ too...” Still muttering, Wei Ying did not notice the growing trepidation in the air.

It was Jin Zixuan who reacted first, snatching a bow and quiver from one of the disciples before shooting three more with a triple shot. “Fight back! Get the weapons!”

Then he turned around to shoot Wang Lingjiao in the back. It was a terrible and dishonourable thing to do, especially to a woman; nobody cared.

“Go, Young Master Jin!”

Wei Ying glanced around to stare at Nie Huaisang, who had shouted those words.

Lan Zhan: “...”

Jiang Cheng: “...”

Wei Ying: “...Brother Nie. Focus!”

Jin Zixuan shot another arrow, just in case. Nobody blamed him – Wang Lingjiao was a cruel and petty character that nobody present cared for, and there was still half a retinue of armed Wen disciples outside the cave.

A splash directed Wei Ying’s attention elsewhere, the ripples over the pool indicating that someone had just leapt into it.

“What the-?” Jiang Cheng looked around. “The assassin! Come along!”

“Er... Jiang Cheng, didn’t he kill the Wen-dogs?” Wei Ying asked. “Why are we chasing him?”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to retort of course they were giving pursuit, but then paused. That was true – why were they chasing him? The unknown assassin was obviously targeting the Qishan Wen Sect, and had even done them the favour of dealing with that enormous monster.

“Watch out!” Wei Wuxian dived to push Jiang Cheng out of the way of a burning iron, only for it to hit his chest.

“Wei Ying!” Wei Ying heard someone call out his name, as the Wen servant set out to stamp the branding iron into his skull.

A flash of white light flared as the servant was whipped out of the way. Wei Wuxian followed the flash to see Lan Zhan flick his wrist, taking back a metal bowstring.

“The Lan clan’s Chord Assassination!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, having chosen to huddle with the female cultivators since the fight was already more or less over.

Nobody got back their personal swords yet – none of the Wen retinue were dumb enough to put them and their weapons in the same area – but the upper-level swords present with the Wen disciples were good enough for everyone to fly out in twos and threes. Of course, their celebration was a bit dampened by the remaining retinue outside of the cave, but they were already armed and raring to fight back.

Light and noise boomed in the quiet night, and Wei Ying lifted his head up. Lan Zhan followed his eyes to see a figure vanishing into the horizon.

“Flying!” Jiang Cheng identified. “They’re going for reinforcements!”

“Good!” Jin Zixuan snarled, fingering the bow in his hands.

“Jin Zixuan, you might be eager to fight them yourself, but we’ve got family to regroup with!” Jiang Cheng snarled. “The assassin had more sense to cut and run after killing those two!”

“Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, all at once!” Nie Huaisang sighed. “What high cultivation! What do you think, Brother Wangji?”

“...” Lan Zhan’s brow furrowed deeper.

“If we assume that he was the one who killed the monster, and then those two, then how did he know that they would come here?” Wei Ying suddenly spoke up. “And, if he was acting alone, _who_ is he?”


	6. Needle Concealed in Silk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [See my Tumblr for extra notes](https://lalunaticscribe.tumblr.com/post/179723364491/all-the-kings-lands-chapter-6-geography)

The good news was, the commotion about cultivators being tossed out of the window immediately summoned the man that they had been looking for.

“Young Master Lan’s prowess is known far and wide,” said a boy in cloth when he presented himself by the door of the room. “This lowly one has now seen for my own eyes the Lan clan’s skill.”

The boy’s figure was on the smaller side. He had fair skin and dark brows framing the favour-gaining features of Jin Guangyao, once upon a time. However, the name of Jin Guangyao had yet to touch upon this boy, Meng Yao, just yet.

“Young Master~” Wei Wuxian murmured aloud. “QingHeng-Jun, he’s saying that you look handsome enough to pass for your sons~”

“...” QingHeng-Jun turned towards the boy. “You are?”

“Sect Chief Lan, this lowly one is Meng Yao,” the boy bowed lower. “I carry a message from the Eldest Young Master Lan.”

“Please, do not bow, you must be another friend of the Dao,” QingHeng-Jun rose to personally receive this person. “May I offer a cup of tea?”

Meng Yao blushed, obviously unused to a Sect Chief playing host to him. Especially since this sect chief was the complete opposite of that birth father of his, Wei Wuxian noted. Despite the long years spent in seclusion, QingHeng-Jun obviously still cared about his sect and family; he just needed an impetus to move.

Although... Wei Wuxian frowned. It was not a good reason for essentially abandoning his sons to Lan Qiren’s teachings for years, but the idea that QingHeng-Jun was actually plotting against the Wen Sect while in seclusion now seemed more plausible. Was Lan Qiren in on this? Lan Xichen had not mentioned anything...

Wei Wuxian did not know, and did not have the time to pass judgement. QingHeng-Jun was already saying: “This is my friend, the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Yuandao.”

“Greetings.”

The two exchanged salutes.

Meng Yao clarified: “Following the burning of the Cloud Recesses, Young Master Lan escaped west along the river, finally being run aground in Yunping. I hid him from his pursuers and he has been in my rooms ever since.”

“Then I thank this friend of the Dao for his benevolence, in taking in my son from the dangers around,” QingHeng-Jun stood up to bow, earning a deeper salute from Meng Yao.

Meng Yao seemed touched by the gesture. “It is my honour to assist QingHeng-Jun.”

Wei Wuxian could not ever see through Jin Guangyao’s masks; he doubted that anybody, even Nie Huaisang, could have managed that feat. However, Meng Yao was still young and idealistic enough to believe in the merits of being recognised by the Lanling Jin Sect and his father, that having the leader of one of the great sects address him as a peer was an overwhelming gesture.

“I convey that the Eldest Young Master Lan is safe, as are his books,” Meng Yao spoke after taking tea. “I have not expected for QingHeng-Jun to come personally.”

“Needs must,” QingHeng-Jun replied. “I was in the midst of dispatching my companion to find Xichen, yet you have already come! I have not needed to exert any effort at all!”

“I believe that QingHeng-Jun had had his hands full with handling the Wen cultivators,” Meng Yao’s voice betrayed some hidden admiration.

“That is true,” QingHeng-Jun commented. “Meng Yao, I see that you are a talented young man, a pride to your family’s elders.”

“My father met my mother in a house of pleasure,” Meng Yao demurred.

“You are still a credit to them,” QingHeng-Jun insisted, leaning over to take Meng Yao’s hand in his own. “I am acquainted with Sect Chief Jin enough to know. In a peaceful world neither of us would ever have the chance to meet. How fortuitous.”

“...” Meng Yao paused. “What QingHeng-Jun means...”

“Let us speak as equals,” QingHeng-Jun pulled out a folded paper from his Qiankun sleeve. “How well up is your geography?”

“QingHeng-Jun is better at it.”

“The Qishan Wen Sect controls all west of the Central Plains,” QingHeng-Jun pointed out. “Over the years, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect covers the south as dictated by the Long River, the Qinghe Nie Sect has taken the north-east, Gusu the south-east, and Lanling the east. Approximating the Qishan Wen Sect’s movements, the battlefields will be decided at Jiangling, Hejian, and Langya. The current situation is, that the Gusu Lan Sect has pledged support to the Qinghe Nie Sect, where the Lanling Jin Sect has yet to choose a side.”

“Between the Qishan Wen Sect and the Lanling Jin Sect, they can divide the realm in half,” Meng Yao immediately noted. “My... birth father... is not that type of person.”

“I am aware, what kind of person Jin Guangshan is.”

Meng Yao and Wei Wuxian sat up straighter at the change in tone – a flat, descriptive tone which seemed odd when used to refer to a leader of the great cultivational sects. Meng Yao had never met such a thing before. Wei Wuxian had, twice; Lan Wangji on the edge of irritation, and Lan Xichen in flat denial about Jin Guangyao’s true intentions.

QingHeng-Jun has something against Jin Guangshan, they immediately concluded.

“The Qishan Wen Sect watches the skies, and the water routes are likely to be under surveillance,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “Yet we must present someone to speak to the Lanling Jin Sect. Xichen will have to leave the books in hiding to go to Lanling.”

Here he leant forward to grasp Meng Yao’s hands again. “Meng Yao, you are the only one who knows the land route. May I depend on you, to escort my son to Lanling?”

“I am of course pleased to carry out QingHeng-Jun’s instructions.”

“That is good, that is good.” Here QingHeng-Jun paused. “Meng Yao, do you know the origins of ‘a crafty rabbit has three burrows’?”

“...I have heard of it,” Meng Yao slowly spoke.

“Did you know that the Cloud Recesses keeps rabbits?”

“No, I did not.” He looked honestly surprised.

“Keeping pets is usually forbidden at the Cloud Recesses, but my second son Wangji has taken to keeping them,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “One of them keeps escaping the back hill to pass by the Frost Room where I spend my seclusion. No matter how many precautions, I see the rabbit there, outside the Frost Room. Now, I see that rabbit, and I think: here is a young rabbit. Is he crafty enough to dig three burrows for himself, or is he too mired in the mortal dust to keep himself alive, never mind planning ahead?”

QingHeng-Jun patted the hand in his own. “There is an entire war. Should I live to see it end, I hope that the rabbit will be alive to tell me, _I have dug three burrows where I started with one which was loaned to me_. I will tell the rabbit, keep it, one more is never amiss.”

“I am sure the rabbit appreciates the love of QingHeng-Jun.” Meng Yao rose, and slowly made a grand salute. “Until the evening, then.”

As he turned to leave, QingHeng-Jun took one of the empty teacups and threw it onto the ground with a thud. He did not look at the fallen cup, choosing only to stare as Meng Yao turned his head back. They held eyes for a long moment.

“Yes,” QingHeng-Jun breathed. “Stay alive, little rabbit. Yuandao, we part ways here. May we meet again.”

Both young men watched QingHeng-Jun take his sword and leave the room.

Wei Wuxian: “...”

Wei Wuxian turned to Meng Yao. “Do you know what he meant by that?”

“I dare not divine the intentions of QingHeng-Jun.” Meng Yao’s eyes shifted to the side. “Does the Cloud Recesses really... keep rabbits?”

“They do!” Wei Wuxian nodded. “Lan- Second Young Master Lan does keep rabbits. I’m as surprised as you are that QingHeng-Jun knows.”

“I see.” Meng Yao looked thoughtful. “I am to escort Young Master Wei and Young master Lan to Lanling over the land route. From there Young Master Lan will have to negotiate with... Sect Chief Jin... with regards to an alliance.”

“How do we do that?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Both their eyes then fell to the fallen cup.

“...” Both of them exchanged looks.

“You...” Wei Wuxian mouthed as Meng Yao dove for the cup.

* * *

The radiant features of Lan Xichen seemed to brighten up the comparatively drab surroundings that Meng Yao led Wei Wuxian towards.

“Congratulations to ZeWu-Jun!”

“Congratulations?” Lan Xichen blinked. “Ah-Yao?”

Meng Yao presented a pendant of mutton-fat jade with blue streaks, carved until the blue and white spiralled like the mists themselves.

“QingHeng-Jun has ordered, that ZeWu-Jun is to head to Lanling by the overland routes and negotiate an alliance with the Lanling Jin Sect,” Meng Yao stated. “To assist ZeWu-Jun, the title of Young Sect Chief is bestowed, and QingHeng-Jun has also bidden his friend Young Master Wei to assist ZeWu-Jun in the passage to Lanling. I am to show ZeWu-Jun the way to Lanling too.”

“Ah, greetings to ZeWu-Jun,” Wei Wuxian immediately saluted. “This Wei is an acquaintance of QingHeng-Jun, on my way to Lanling from Yunmeng. As a coincidence, your friend Meng Yao here has contacted QingHeng-Jun and I. QingHeng-Jun had to return to Gusu to amass forces to rescue people from the clutches of the Qishan Wen Sect, hence the rush.”

“My _father_ has come out of seclusion?” Lan Xichen was stupefied. “He was not hurt during the burning of the Cloud Recesses?”

“A sudden reversal of the situation allowed the Cloud Recesses to repel the attack,” Wei Wuxian carefully worded the reply. He had agreed with QingHeng-Jun beforehand not to tell Lan Xichen, and with the extremely sharp Meng Yao at hand he could not quite afford to lie. “This Wei is a passing rogue cultivator, who had the fortune to make acquaintance with QingHeng-Jun in the Lotus Pier of Yunmeng. In the service of the great cause, I am willing to accompany Young Masters Lan and Meng to Lanling.”

“Please, Yiling Patriarch, I am no young master,” Meng Yao said. “This is a trip fraught with danger.”

“It cannot be helped.”

They set off on foot to Lanling the next day. Due to the requirements, Meng Yao had used some of Lan Xichen’s money to buy a horse-carriage, and the three men had then piled on it, with Meng Yao driving. Yet Lan Xichen stayed with Meng Yao at the head of the cart, leaving Wei Wuxian observing one young boy talk to another and ignore the adult in the vicinity.

 _If Lan Zhan and I were to switch personalities, would it be_ _like this sight?_ Wei Wuxian could not help but think.

“My father actually came out of seclusion to deal with this,” Lan Xichen muttered. “What is going on with the world?”

“It is the chaotic world, ZeWu-Jun,” Meng Yao replied. “Even QingHeng-Jun has started the struggle to survive.”

“That is true,” Lan Xichen admitted. “I... I have been to Koi Tower before, but this is a difficult scenario. Sect Chief Jin must recognise that the cultivation world is currently in a great struggle.”

Looking at Lan Xichen’s bright optimism, Wei Wuxian had to remind himself that the Lan clan raised children, not future Sect Chiefs. Lan Xichen’s optimism paled compared to Lan Qiren’s sternness or his own father’s aura, which seemed itself a pale shade of the young talent who had made his reputation at a young age.

“QingHeng-Jun has a plan, doesn’t he?” Wei Wuxian posed to Meng Yao.

“Forgive me, Young Master Wei,” Meng Yao demurred. “I cannot pretend to comprehend his mind.”

“I see this virtuous brother Meng is not unintelligent at all!” Wei Wuxian teased. “Make a guess, come on.”

“I see that Ah-Yao’s judgement is rather accurate,” Lan Xichen agreed with a smile. “Ah-Yao has met my father, surely you could guess at something.”

“ZeWu-Jun praises me too much! QingHeng-Jun stands tall and sees far, how could I pretend to know?” Meng Yao laughed with Lan Xichen.

It was the first time that Wei Wuxian had seen the face of Jin Guangyao wear a smile which was not his trademark mask; the smile of a young boy without a care in the world.

This was not the Chief Cultivator LianFang-Zun Jin Guangyao; not yet the man who murdered his father, son, wife, teacher and brother. Here was a boy who had only made a very charming friend, and had been asked to guide that friend onwards to Lanling.

* * *

“The situation is beneficial to Lanling at the moment,” Meng Yao detailed a few days later as they approached the city of Lanling, the glittering roof of Koi Tower visible from afar. “Lanling is positioned directly opposite of Qishan, and the mountains form a natural barrier against invading armies. The outer reached of the Lanling Jin Sect would be threatened up to Langya, but further there would be within the influence of Mt Tai.”

“The Taishan area does not allow slaughter, with Lanling being at the very edge of its influence,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “For the Wen Sect to seize Lanling, the only route they can take is to go around the mountains.”

“Only assuming that Gusu and Qinghe are lost,” Meng Yao corrected. “However, that also means that Gusu and Qinghe have Lanling placed between them. As the Young Sect Chief and appointed heir, ZeWu-Jun has the ability to command the Lan clan’s troops.”

“Is that so?” Wei Wuxian asked, uninterested in these games of mutual deception.

“I wonder if Sect Chief Jin knows what QingHeng-Jun thinks about him,” Meng Yao reflected.

“Er...” Wei Wuxian pondered. Nie Mingjue had high cultivation and a heroic disposition, but not much for thinking deeply. Furthermore, he had already had some uneasiness with Jin Guangshan. If the wily fox Jin Guangshan knew that QingHeng-Jun did not like him – as much as any of the main Lan clan seemed to express that openly –and that he was sandwiched between an impetuous junior and an equally intelligent belligerent, then sending Lan Xichen to negotiate became less of a negotiation, and more of a direct threat to Lanling.

 _I hate you about as equally as I hate the Qishan Wen Sect_ , that motion would seem to say.  _I am sending my son because there is something more urgent_ _to deal with._ _You screw this up, and I will finish you before I deal with the_ _Wen-dogs._

Wei Wuxian met Meng Yao’s eyes, and saw a flash of comprehension followed by a look of pity towards the oblivious Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen was currently side-saddle by the driver’s seat, leaning against the carriage to watch the scenery pass by.

“I think,” Wei Wuxian said at last, “that since ZeWu-Jun is now the Young Sect Chief, he can of course represent his father in such negotiations, especially since the end is inevitable. Sect Chief Jin cannot afford to offend both sides right now, and I understand that the young Sect Chief Nie is also acquainted with ZeWu-Jun.”

 _What an evil move,_ Wei Wuxian sighed.  _On the surface sending your son to negotiate to give him practice, but in reality threatening Jin Guangshan. I like it._

“Of course, the Qishan Wen Sect would probably try to sabotage us,” Meng Yao commented as the shadow of black-masked troops flickered on the road before them. “They don’t seem very subtle.”

“They probably don’t need to,” Wei Wuxian leant back to fish out the hunting bow and small quiver hidden in the back of the cart, pushing both articles in Lan Xichen’s hands. “ZeWu-Jun, hunting during such nice weather is the best part. Don’t you agree? Meng Yao, drive faster. We’re rushing for time.”

“Young Master Wei, you’re insane!” Meng Yao laughed, but whipped the reins to makes the horses run faster.

* * *

While a trio of young men were currently in the midst of chariot-era road rage, a different trio had started flying back to Yunmeng.

“Luckily the swords were at the Nanyang supervision office!” Wei Ying sighed as he controlled Suibian to an easy cruise. “Lan Zhan, your father acts really fast! The Lan and Nie cultivators were there within the day!”

“The old Sect Chief Nie was of my father’s generation, and my father left his seclusion once to pay his respects at the funeral,” Lan Zhan gave a placid explanation, his brow furrowed as he constantly glanced behind. “If Sect Chief Nie was correct, though, Brother should be on his way to Lanling on Father’s orders.”

“ZeWu-Jun too?” Jiang Cheng sighed. “Then Second Young Master Lan can rest easy. That new house-guest of QingHeng-Jun, what’s his name, seems rather talented.”

“Wei Yuandao?” Wei Ying spoke aloud. “Heh, I hope the maiden back then doesn’t mention about me to him. If he knew that I borrowed his name it would be terrible.”

“You’re still aware that she’ll never forget you,” Lan Zhan scolded. “Shameless!”

“Yes, Second Young Master Lan is right,” Wei Ying sighed. “Not even your father had such a reaction.”

“Sect Chief Lan probably let you off on behalf of the beating you got from Mom,” Jiang Cheng scolded. “You’re still on that? If old- Mister Lan knew, he’d send you off to copy the rules ten times!”

“But why?” Wei Ying asked. “I’m not in the Lan clan, and I’m not planning to marry into the Lan clan, so why do I have to copy the rules if I never plan to step inside there again?”

Lan Zhan frowned.

Behind the trio, another glowing sword barely broke through the cloud cover, close enough to eavesdrop with a cultivator’s hearing while far enough to run. Were Lan Zhan to turn around right now, he would have been stunned to see his own sword Bichen change course for Lanling, despite the fact that the exact same sword was currently under his feet.


	7. String of Pearl and Jade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 Nov 2018: Updates will be shifted to a weekly schedule after Chapter 7 to allow for RL issues. - LLS

Meng Yao’s decision to drive the cart nearer to the assassins, while seeming rash, was actually the most intelligent decision. It put the trio closer to Lanling, which also meant that soon the Jin cultivators would be aware of the situation.

Lan Xichen shot three arrows with one twang. Three cultivators got shot, yet the arrows did not seem to affect them too much. “Ah...”

“Cultivator equipment are not easy to buy,” Meng Yao sounded apologetic even as he continued driving the cart.

“Don’t mind him, he’s a rich young master.” Wei Wuxian commented, clinging for dear life on the side of the cart as he kicked one cultivator down.

The sound of breaking bone made all three wince.

“Shoot them some more,” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Lan Xichen did as told, watching at the three he had shot finally fell. “Do we have string?”

“Not long enough, and not enough at all,” Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, and clapped his hands. “Get to work!”

Meng Yao and Lan Xichen shared looks.

Three more assassins fell, causing the rest of the assassins to hesitate. This was because, the newest assassins had been felled not by any of the trio directly, but by their very dead brethren, who against all common sense were still making quivering steps shrill and powerful shrieks that ferocious ghosts made after they came back to life.

“Corpse transformation?” Lan Xichen’s brow furrowed. “This-”

“Kill them all! Geh!” Wei Wuxian used both hands to grasp the cart. “Young Master Meng, what are you doing?”

“Not me! The road hasn’t been fixed...”

“The Lanling Jin Sect is filthy rich, why can’t it afford to fix the roads!” Wei Wuxian made the same complaint as many a rider had done. “Does it mean that every single cultivator there knows how to ride a sword?!”

“The Lanling Jin Sect probably has exclusive roads,” Meng Yao continued shouting against the rush of the breeze and the whinny of horses. “They can certainly afford it. The public routes are for people who can’t afford other ways.”

“Ah, a female cultivator!” Wei Wuxian chirped as he saw one of the awakened fierce corpses overwhelm three other black-clad assassins at once. He groaned in pain then, having knocked his head as he rushed to stuff a bamboo tube hanging down his front back into his robes.

“Pardon?” Lan Xichen drew Shuoyue to chop at another assassin attacking their flank, only glancing once the assassin had fallen from a blow to the head, staunching his bleeding leg with one hand. He glanced, only to keep staring at the gore-splattered scene.

“Women are far more vicious than men when transformed into corpses,” Wei Wuxian explained. “I can’t figure out why, maybe it’s because they don’t have as much a chance in life to express their feelings, so in death all of that pent-up fury comes out...”

Meng Yao frowned.

“Either way, they’re certainly more vicious than male corpses,” Wei Wuxian continued to prattle as he clicked his tongue. The fierce corpses moved as one, a halting and jerky killing machine. “If this still doesn’t get us some reinforcements from the Jin Sect I shall really look down on Jin Guangshan. Duck!”

Meng Yao put the reins in one hand, especially as an arrow stuck itself bare inches from his body. With the other he pushed down Lan Xichen’s head as an arrow whistled over past his forearm.

“Do forgive the presumption,” he murmured.

“Brother Meng... is lucky to have missed that,” Lan Xichen sighed.

One assassin had scaled a tree, and currently leapt down, only to face a sword to the torso drawn by Meng Yao, and was thrown down to be crushed under the carriage wheels. More blood spattered on the cart.

Meng Yao’s spine straightened as a bamboo tube smacked against his bleeding forearm. “Ow!”

“A signal flare!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, taking it to pull the string.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes barely took note of the bamboo tube, before the curtain of night descended once more.

_What? No way! That tube was definitely one-time use only!_

A thick pillar of light descended to the ground, enveloping one assassin. It split into six directions, eating through the ground and so many more in six ways, a clear disaster hidden by the dim night wrought by the stars. The trio ducked back into the cart as a passing beam scorched off one side of the cart’s roof.

“What manner of technique is this?!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, his eyes fixated on the skies as the six beams dissipated and the day tore through the night.

Without a driver, the cart slowly cantered to a stop as the horses slowed. Wei Wuxian dove over, snatching the bamboo tube from Lan Xichen’s hands before he dug both fingers inside. The fingers that came out were streaked in a rusty colour.

“Blood?” Wei Wuxian glanced at the two of them, before looking at himself. “Blood powered the array?”

“Array?” Meng Yao sat up. “Y- Young Master Wei... this technique... is this the reason why QingHeng-Jun has such confidence?”

“No, yes, I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian admitted, staring at the rusty colour on his hands. “But that... did not look like Stars Surrounding the Moon.”

* * *

The trio managed to enter Lanling without incident after that debacle, still not seeing any of the Jin Sect’s disciples about. In fact, right up to finding an inn and bandaging their injuries and having lunch, no one from the Lanling Jin Sect had even appeared before them.

“This is strange,” Lan Xichen frowned. “By now they should have realised that we have arrived.”

Wei Wuxian turned to Meng Yao. “You want to tell him, or I do it?”

“...” Meng Yao turned to Lan Xichen, and began, “ZeWu-Jun, not even the Lanling Jin Sect can fail to notice that we have arrived. It is only, since this is an extraordinary moment and we are the ones who have come with a request, that they must place themselves on a higher position to negotiate. Their lack of reaction on the surface is aimed to make you nervous. In times of war, the wait could take days before Sect Chief Jin would get around to seeing you.”

Lan Xichen frowned.

“However, we are fortunate in that... ZeWu-Jun was born under a lucky star,” Meng Yao himself frowned, but continued: “That technique... Stars Surrounding the Moon? The death toll and the physical damage, not to mention the sudden descent of night, would alert the Lanling Jin Sect. They have yet to establish who were fighting outside, yet if the assassins were working with the Wen Sect, they would now know that we have come with enough firepower to destroy Carp Tower. They can no longer afford to drag out the wait, and will likely send someone to invite the Young Masters for dinner.”

“What about Ah-Yao?” Lan Xichen asked.

“I am my father’s son,” Meng Yao reasoned. “My presence there would not help ZeWu-Jun, and would instead weaken our position.”

“I don’t care!” Lan Xichen hissed, this time with an edge of pain. “Ah-Yao has escorted us here from distant parts, going through life and death, and would still be turned away due to his background? If Carp Tower’s honour was so easily sullied, then they have no honour in the first place!”

“Young Sect Chief Lan!” Meng Yao entreated. “You must be in great pain, I will find you some painkillers. Does Young Master Wei require anything?”

“Really?” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Some modelling clay, please. I need to get an impression.”

“Of course.”

Wei Wuxian took this moment when Meng Yao was away to study the ashen-faced Lan Xichen. “He has a good idea, taking their attention away from us,” he commented.

“Attention?” Lan Xichen frowned.

“I agree with you about honour and the lack thereof,” Wei Wuxian waved an absent hand, a jug of wine dangling from his fingers. “We are still the ones at the disadvantage. Drink some tea, staunch your wounds, and cool your head. You can help me with working out the array for Stars Surrounding the Moon.”

“Stars Surrounding the Moon? The... light from the sky? Where day changed into night?” Lan Xichen was distracted from his leg. “The _Analects_ state on governance, ‘He who exercises government by means of his virtue may be compared to the Polaris, which keeps its place and all the stars turn towards it’. Appropriate.”

“This was the technique which killed Wen Xu and his entire retinue of Wen cultivators at the Cloud Recesses,” Wei Wuxian mused.

“It’s _that_ powerful?” Lan Xichen stared in shock. “That is... that must be hundreds of cultivators!”

“But it was different,” Wei Wuxian said: “At the Cloud Recesses, the moon and stars both appeared, they hit everyone, but they healed allies while harming enemies. In this case... it was more like an artillery barrage. It made no discrimination of enemies and allies, and it physically affected the land.”

Wei Wuxian had pressed putty into the sides of the bamboo tube, and the impressions now lay before them. Lan Xichen took one look and shook his head: “We would need a crystal to read such small writing.”

Wei Wuxian squinted, the pads of his fingers tracing the impression. “Hmm... may I borrow a knife?”

Meng Yao drew one from his boot. “There are a lot of uses for knives,” he defended to a stunned Lan Xichen.

“I agree!” Wei Wuxian accepted the knife and began to drive the point into its walls. After some careful cutting and digging, the inside of the bamboo tube slotted out to reveal the incantations spiralling within the wood. Bits of it were still stained in blood.

“How unique,” Meng Yao commented, eyes flickering over the carving as the softened wood was rolled out. “Using blood as the trigger to activate an otherwise inert source of energy... and the entire incantation to run along the inside of the barrel saves space.”

Wei Wuxian’s hand pressed on a darkly stained circular piece of wood, which due to its unique shape had to be the bottom of the tube. A hole where the string had been still bore the marks where a tiny bag had been ruptured by the pulling of string.

He sniffed. “Human blood.”

“What?” Lan Xichen frowned.

“It can’t be established, but the main idea behind this array is that the spilling of blood has power, or something along those lines,” Wei Wuxian slowly spoke. “The incantation itself is present, but a source other than the wielder’s spiritual power – in this case, blood – was employed to power it. Then one of us three accidentally mixed our blood in by accident, powering it again. I could be wrong, but...”

He took the scroll from Meng Yao’s hands, reading through the incantations before he pointed out a section: “Here, this bit is an array which I have never seen, governing the input of power.”

“Never seen?” Meng Yao echoed. “It’s not your technique, Young Master Wei?”

“A great person living outside of the mortal world passed it to me,” Wei Wuxian deflected. The Lan ancestors certainly counted as great people.

“But...” Lan Xichen’s brow furrowed. “Using blood to power the array is a rather vile idea. It is akin to sacrificing life to move the world.”

“In a chaotic world, one has to compromise,” Wei Wuxian stated with the wisdom of having lived through one Sunshot Campaign. “If we could exchange a bit of blood for such a weapon, many would find it a worthy cause. Yet we must figure out whose blood caused it.”

“Not now, Young Master Wei,” Meng Yao commented quietly, glancing towards the inn’s main door where a man in the Jin Sect’s uniform was approaching them. “The Lanling Jin Sect is here.”

“Greetings to ZeWu-Jun!” The Jin disciple saluted with the utmost sincerity. “Sect Chief Jin was too preoccupied with Sect Chief Jiang and your honoured brother’s arrival, and thus had not realised that you have arrived within Lanling until just now.”

“The Yunmeng Jiang Sect?!” All three men echoed in alarm – if Yunmeng was lost, then the security of Guanzhong would be harder to breach.

“Y- Yes,” the disciple shook his head. “I do not know why, but Lotus Pier has disappeared!”

“What?!”

From the Jin disciple they got the story out piecemeal. While the trio had been on the way to Lanling, in that time the Yunmeng Jiang Sect had already evacuated Lotus Pier to Meishan. Not a moment too soon, either, for the Qishan Wen Sect had apparently recruited some help from an extremely capable person. That person had thus unleashed a one-of-a-kind technique, which according to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect disciples who witnessed it swallowed the entire compound of Lotus Pier’s dominion, disappearing the hundred-year-old manor overnight. Sect Chief Jiang had thus committed the Yunmeng Jiang Sect to the campaign against the Wen Sect, and had arrived to request the alliance of the Lanling Jin Sect.

“The _Lotus Pier_ disappeared?” Wei Wuxian muttered.

“The main house, the martial arts field, even Lotus Lake,” the Jin disciple confirmed. “Thank the heavens that Sect Chief Jiang and his family escaped in time due to a timely warning. I have come to invite ZeWu-Jun and company to discuss this matter at tonight’s banquet.”

“Please assure Sect Chief Jin that we will be there,” Lan Xichen’s expression was serious as he dismissed the Jin cultivator. Once the Jin cultivator had left, he turned to the other two: “What do you think?”

“A response,” Meng Yao considered. “Someone knows that Stars Surrounding the Moon is in our possession, and have sided with the Qishan Wen Sect on this account.”

“So how much we inform Sect Chief Jin, is the crux,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Holding Stars Surrounding the Moon is useless if there’s a new threat that nobody knows about. But I do not know why they only targeted Lotus Pier, but left... Sect Chief Jiang and his family alive.”

“If I were the one using such a technique, leaving people alive to spread the news would build terror and destabilise resistance,” Meng Yao considered. “It is easy to dodge the spear in the open, but hard to avoid a stab in the dark.”

Wei Wuxian slowly clapped, pointing to Meng Yao. “Good idea. The disappearance of a hundred-year-old manor overnight is indeed terrifying, especially if the family involved has no idea the why or wherefore. Consider, if other cultivation manors were to disappear in the same fashion, never to be heard from again – that would be a blow to the morale of those who stand against the Wen Sect.”

* * *

The territories of cultivator families often overlapped with the kingdoms which riddled the land, the small fiefdoms and large empires struggling with the affairs of the mortal world. Currently one such kingdom was the Kingdom of Ling, whose capital Luoyi currently lay within five hundred _li_ of the Nightless City itself. Within this city and the temples which populated it lay a building which was not always there, a structure which seemed to come and go as if it grew wings, identified only by the symbol on its signboard–

–the black crow of the Crow Terrace.

“You complete _idiot_!”

Su Chenglong dodged the pocket bronze mirror flung at his head. “What? I made them panic, right?”

“Idiot!” Wu Shuijing cursed at him from his seat. “We were supposed to delay entering until they’ve all exhausted themselves fighting! What if they find traces of your Ground Circle Prison1?!”

“It’s worth the risk,” Su Chenglong offered, playing with the ink brush stuck in his topknot. “After all, I managed to grow enough lotuses. So many lotuses would have been neglected amidst the disappeared house.”

Wu Shuijing relaxed.

“As for you, you’ve barely stepped out since we retrieved bits of the old Xuanwu,” Su Chenglong teased back. “Whereas _I_ have added a significant landmark to the Map of Land and State. Have a look!”

Wu Shuijing scowled as a scroll was unfurled to the length of the room. There, on a corner of the giant map depicted in the scroll, a lotus flower seemed to bloom right off the surface of the painting itself, as if struggling to break free.

 _Lotus Pier,_ the map said.

Wu Shuijing sighed. “Our Chief has just taken residence in Luoyi. If we are discovered, our efforts in cultivating this kingdom would be finished.”

Su Chenglong started to roll up his scroll. “I still have to see who’s using Stars Surrounding the Moon. That person... certainly has guts. I should gut him and check.”

* * *

**1 ZH:  画地为牢 – lit. to be confined within a circle drawn on the ground (idiom); fig. to confine oneself to a restricted range of activities**


	8. Across a Thousand Miles the Thread Binds

Carp Tower, Lanling.

At midnight, in the Glamour Hall on Carp Tower, over fifty Sect Chiefs over sects of various sizes united under the banner of ‘shooting the sun’. That was however not quite important – what was the greater crisis was the news delivered by a grim Sect Chief Jiang regarding the fate of Lotus Pier.

According to Jiang Fengmian’s report, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect had been completely prepared and riddled with traps, waiting for an unsuspecting Wen retinue to enter. Gunpowder kegs and flame-talismans had been prepared, amongst other surprises. What none of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect had expected was for their home to simply disappear overnight.

The entire room was tense, as if confronted by a great enemy. Everyone was whispering things like: “Who did it?!”

“The whole house-!”

“If there were people inside-!”

The front row was occupied by the greatest cultivators of the Lanling Jin Sect, Qinghe Nie Sect, Yunmeng Jiang Sect and Gusu Lan Sect. All of them wore solemn expressions.

“...the Cloud Recesses were fortunate to have received assistance in repelling the Wen retinue,” a young Lan Zhan had just concluded his explanation. “Our father has now come out of seclusion, but he is away seeking more allies. My elder brother has thus inherited the mantle of the Young Sect Chief, to act in place of my father in this meeting.”

“QingHeng-Jun is treating us rather lightly,” Jin Guangshan snorted from his place at the foremost seat. As master of Carp Tower it was his place to play the host. Despite this snort, his eyes as well as that of every other Jin disciple were fixated next to Lan Xichen’s side – rather, upon the figure of Meng Yao placed next to Lan Xichen, equal to both the Lan brothers.

“I think QingHeng-Jun has his priorities straight,” Nie Mingjue shot back. “Rather than sit around talking on an outcome which is more or less decided, it is best to turn those who were forced into submission and gain more allies for the battle. Sect Chief Jiang’s decision to report this has alerted us to a brand new weapon in the hands of the Wen-dogs.”

Jin Guangshan growled, but did not rebut.

Here, Wei Wuxian had left the Glamour Hall to stroll along endless waves of Sparks Amidst Snow. The curtain of night fell across Carp Tower, the petals glistening under the light of the blanket of stars above, and with a twist of his wrist Wei Wuxian had swept over one of the bright peonies.

In the distance, a white silhouette billowed, the figure slowly walking towards Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian saw, him and spread his arms wide.

“ _Green, green, the grass by the river,_ _a_ _nd in thought I follow it far, far away_ ;” he recited, “ _s_ _o far that I can hardly picture him,_ _a_ _nd yet last night I saw him in a dream_.” 1

“ _In a dream he was by my side,_ _b_ _ut I woke and he was in a distant land,_ ” the other replied. “ _A distant land, strange parts;_ _t_ _ossing and turning I longed for him in vain. Even a withered mulberry feels the wind,_ _e_ _ven the ocean water feels the cold. Men come home to fondle their dear ones;_ _w_ _ho would carry word to me?_ ”2

“Now, see here, I didn’t ask to get lost!” Wei Wuxian broke the recitation to put his arms around the other man and lock lips with him.

Above, a comet sparked across the Milky Way. Magpies circles the nearby trees three times in song, and a breeze carried the scent of Sparks Amidst Snow in a rippling ocean that surrounded the two who leant into one.

A long while passed before Wei Wuxian pulled away, their foreheads placed together and their eyelashes almost touching.

“How is it?” he breathed.

“...”

“Oh? Playing the silence game, are we?”

“...”

“ _A_ _stranger from far away,_ _b_ _rings me two fine carp,_ ” Wei Wuxian’s hands began to trail down the other’s chest as he continued the poem. “ _I call the boy to cook them,_ _a_ _nd find in them a message on white silk. I kneel to real—What does his letter say?_ ”3

Came the answer: “  _‘Take good care of your health,’ he starts,_ _a_ _nd ends, “You are every moment in my thoughts’_.” 4

“I missed you too, Second Brother Lan,” Wei Wuxian teased. “I saw little Second Brother Lan just now, if you came later I wouldn’t have been able to help myself-”

Before he finished his sentence, Lan Wangji abruptly wrapped a hand around his neck, violently returning the kiss until only gasps could escape from Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Only then did he let go with some reluctance, to bite at Wei Wuxian’s throat.

“Second Brother Lan, this is the front of Carp Tower,” Wei Wuxian teased into the shell of Lan Wangji’s ear. “Your elder brother, your uncle, even your younger self are only one wall apart from us. If you do me now, little Second Brother Lan would certainly come out to investigate, and then he’ll find his older self doing- ah, softer~ Are you born in the year of the dog?!”

“Where was I? Oh, right. If you do me here, let’s not even count how many peonies we’d crush. You’ve got such strength, I definitely had no way of resisting, and if I screamed you could restrain my speech. There would be a big impression in the middle of Carp Tower’s main square, what a nine-day wonder that would be, and then those storytellers would never guess that the cause was actually- you’re serious?! My good Second Brother Lan, you’ve crossed time and space to find me, surely you can wait until we’re in your Silence Room? The one that doesn’t come with a miniature version of you.”

“The Ancestor...” Wei Wuxian could actually hear the inflection that indicated Lan An, “...used a technique that allowed me to find you. No matter the time, or space, the Magpie Bridge leads the way.”

“Magpie Bridge,” Wei Wuxian breathed. “Again the Moon Elder leads you to me. He must have put your forehead ribbon on my hair just to bind us together.”

“En,” Lan Wangji tugged at his sleeve, to show the scarlet hair-tie twisted around his wrist.

Neither of them spoke about returning each other’s articles. For one it seemed as if they had made it a present of each other’s, and for another it was an unwritten promise to find each other, no matter the time and place. A scarlet thread within the colourless skeins of time and space had long led them to each other once, and it would do so again – such was the unwritten faith in the ways of the world.

 _“Aiyoh,_ Lan Zhan, you’re too good at this,” Wei Wuxian moaned. “We can fly out and hunt down an inn, and you’d rather perform here?”

Lan Wangji was silent, the green flecks in his eyes burning bright in the dim night. The wind blew, and a sigh – too faint for normal people, but enough for Lan Wangji to turn his head.

Wei Wuxian pulled himself up to Lan Wangji’s ear, and whispered: “Little Big Brother Lan seems to enjoy the show.”

* * *

Lan Xichen reared back in the shade off of the beaten path, looking as if he would have chosen to sink into the ground right now.

“I see that Young Master Wei is having a... reunion,” Meng Yao elected.

“I wish!” Lan Xichen opened his mouth, and then closed it, the blush spreading from the roots of his ears to his face, spots of rare colour across jade cheeks under the dim stone lanterns dotted amidst Carp Tower’s paths. “T- This... this is impolite to see!”

“They can hear you,” Meng Yao supplied.

“!!!!”

Lan Xichen buried his face in his hands. “T- This-!”

“They’re very passionate about it,” Meng Yao’s bland tone made Lan Xichen look up.

“A- Ah-Yao?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Meng Yao gave a perfunctory reply. “I’m used to worse sights. Is ZeWu-Jun unused to the sight of two men...”

“I- I’m going back in!” came the strangled reply.

“The venerable Mister Lan would ask, why is your face so red?” Meng Yao lightly squeezed Lan Xichen’s hand. “Let’s find some tea and a private corner to calm down.”

Shaken, Lan Xichen allowed himself to be led away into the starlit night. His good breeding prevented him from commenting on such sights, yet his relative youth had also insulated him from the affairs of romance. Never mind building a rapport with the opposite sex, he had not the ability to talk to his peers of the same sex about... about...

“I hope they don’t go at it before Carp Tower,” Meng Yao said aloud. “It would be hard to explain their tryst before the main square, never mind while all the sect leaders are discussing the upcoming war-”

“I beg you, Ah-Yao, please don’t say any more!” Lan Xichen lowered his hands a bit to see twinkling eyes crinkled into a smile.

Both boys started laughing.

“W- Would Young Master Wei actually do that?!” Lan Xichen’s shouldered shook as he leant down.

“I see that he has full confidence in his partner’s ability,” Meng Yao reached out to brush the hair of Lan Xichen’s fringe out of his eyes. “One of them is certainly head over heels in love enough to do that.”

Lan Xichen broke out into helpless giggles at the look the other shot him. “Oh, Ah-Yao, don’t say any more...!!!”

* * *

Qishan, Nightless City.

“You are certain of the signs over Lanling?”

It was a youth’s voice which posed the question, yet nobody found it surprising. Wen Ruohan’s level of cultivation was extremely high, so of course his corporal body was also perfectly maintained in its prime.

“Yes, Sect Chief... night descended though it was the middle of the day, the moon surrounded by stars shone down, and the stars rushed to... nobody made it out.”

“Nobody...” Wen Ruohan repeated. “Very good... very good...”

Behind the messenger, a woman in the sun robe of the Qishan Wen Sect strolled up towards the dais of the Sun Palace, towards the dais where Wen Ruohan’s jade seat was placed. The flames along the edges of her sleeves and around her collar seemed to dance against her somewhat swarthy complexion with each move, as if intent on reflecting light off of her sweet yet somewhat arrogant expression.

“Sect Chief,” she saluted.

“Wen Qing, you have come,” The young voice softened.

“Yes.”

“Do you know the reason for why I have requested your presence?”

“...I do not, Sect Chief.”

Wen Ruohan pointed towards the messenger. “Leave us.”

The messenger fled without looking back.

A torch crackled with fires, the Nightless City still bright enough as if seeking to eclipse the night with its own brilliance. At the centre of this brilliance was Wen Ruohan, whose cultivation conferred upon him youth to the point where he seemed younger than the current new generation of Wen cultivators, but also gave his actions a gravitas unmatched in the history of the Qishan Wen Sect.

Yet, upon looking up to the jade seat, Wen Qing saw that this fearsome leader and distant uncle was... disturbed. Conflicted, even.

From a paranoid and capricious man, this was not good news.

“Today our assassins tracking Lan Xichen was wiped out,” Wen Ruohan started.

“...may Sect Chief cease your anger.” Wen Qing slowly lowered her head.

“The mystery of the Cloud Recesses siege is also partially cleared,” Wen Ruohan stated. “If you would recall, our scouts from outside of Gusu reported night descending in the middle of day, the stars and moon in the sky, and falling meteors which landed but did not burn the Cloud Recesses. Two hours later, the Lan Sect delivered all three thousand charred remains of our forces, including Wen Xu’s remains.”

“This-!” Wen Qing started, looking up in shock. “If the Gusu Lan Sect had such a technique-”

“Nobody has such a technique,” Wen Ruohan dismissed. “At least, nobody with a corporal body.”

“Then, some greatly skilled person has sided with the Gusu Lan Sect?” Wen Qing suggested. “What about our spies in Gusu?”

“We no longer have spies in Gusu. They were all killed by that same technique,” Wen Ruohan stated. “That same technique manifested in a different form today, in Lanling. This, and the sudden disappearance of Lotus Pier, allowed us to figure it out after checking the history only told to the main house.”

“The Lotus Pier... was not ours?”

“If we had such a technique, do you think that we would spread our power around only now?” Wen Ruohan asked.

“Do forgive my ignorance.”

“Forgiven. The technique behind Gusu and Lanling is named Stars Surrounding the Moon,” Wen Ruohan revealed. “Well, the first time in Gusu was Stars Surrounding the Moon, but it also has a derivative technique – Stars Surrounding Polaris. The derivative was the one that appeared in Lanling.”

“...Sect Chief, were it plague or disease or battlefield injuries, we would definitely exert all our efforts,” Wen Qing started. “Yet there are no fighters within-”

Wen Ruohan dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Your bloodline is too precious to waste in battle.”

“...” Wen Qing frowned. “Then I do not know the reason for Sect Chief to have summoned me.”

“This is a tale which stretches back to the founding of the Qishan Wen Sect,” Wen Ruohan stated. “What were you taught by the family historians?”

“Yes,” Wen Qing promptly replied: “The Qishan Wen Sect was founded by Wen Mao, fourth of the twelve Wen brothers. It was the death of the first three Wen brothers due to their insufficient cultivation under the school system which prompted Wen Mao to focus on passing the path and basis of his cultivation to his own family over that of complete strangers. Therefore, the twelve bloodlines of the Wen brothers are united under the banner of the invincible sun, led by the fourth bloodline, Wen Mao’s bloodline. My bloodline is descended from the tenth Wen brother, Wen You.”5

“Back then, Wen You staked his life to save the Qishan Wen Sect,” Wen Ruohan elaborated. “In  _Quintessence_ _of the Wen Sect_  , it was sworn, on the mountains and seas and all of the gods, that forever will the bloodline of Wen You live and flow throughout the history of the world. Our founder Wen Mao elevated Wen You’s bloodline second only to his own, and the descendants of Wen You enjoy privileges comparable to the legitimate Sect Leader’s line.”

Wen Qing paled. “We are loyal to-”

“Yet four hundred years later, this extreme benevolence continues,” Wen Ruohan interrupted. “In any other clan, for a Sect Chief to favour a branch house for so long is unheard of.”

Wen Ruohan had always been unpredictable, laughing one second and then hostile the next. Despite the favour shown to their side of the family, the Wen direct disciples still feared a time when the main house would actually turn on them like the outsider cultivation sects.

Wen Qing fell to her knees in prostration. “We are absolutely loyal to the Sect Chief! We share the same surname, but we have never aspired to replace the main house! Wen Qing does not know why Sect Chief speaks of our ancestor at this time!”

Wen Ruohan stepped down from the dais, raising her arms to lift her up.

“Please do not kneel,” Wen Ruohan shook his head. “You do not know, but Wen You is the hero of the Qishan Wen Sect. With his own mortal life, he dragged down our arch-enemy who bears the moon into the Tongtian River, and in doing so saved the entire Qishan Wen Sect.”

“Wen Qing, I will tell you now, that the four hundred years of care, was for this inevitable moment when someone seeks to break the Moon Elder out of the Tongtian,” Wen Ruohan’s brow relaxed. “We will need to weave the Sacrificial Veil6 and sacrifice to avoid the incoming calamity.”

“...” Wen Qing continued to wait, and she was not disappointed.

“Opposites cancel out,” came Wen Ruohan’s brusque response. “The young against the old, the _yang_ to fight _yin_. Sacrifices have always been chosen from the youngest of Wen You’s bloodline.”

“This-!” Wen Qing thought quickly, her mind combing through the family tree of Wen You. “Wen Yuan is barely a _baby_! Exactly what are we sacrificing a baby to, and one of our babies at that?”

“A god,” came Wen Ruohan’s clipped reply. “A god who had cultivated to the end of his path, stepped into Apotheosis, and hold within his grasp unlimited possibilities. That is what we are sacrificing to _contain_.”

* * *

**1 ZH:  青青河畔草，绵绵思远道。远道不可思，宿昔梦见之。From this poem here: <http://www.kekenet.com/kouyi/201408/323541.shtml> . Also the same poem where Wei Wuxian got the Yuandao pseudonym in Chapter 52**

**2 ZH:  梦见在我傍，忽觉在他乡。他乡各异县，展转不相见。枯桑知天风，海水知天寒。入门各自媚，谁肯相为言！Continuation of the poem.**

**3 ZH:  客从远方来，遗我双鲤鱼，呼儿烹鲤鱼，中有尺素书。长跪读素书，书中意何如？**

**4 ZH:  上言加餐食，下言长相忆。**

**5 Wen Mao is coincidentally named  卯, which refers not only to the east (where the sun rises) but also to the hour of sunrise in the Earthly Branches. Wen You (温酉) whom I named as Wen Qing’s fictional ancestor is named for the west and also the approximate hour of sunset.**

**6  倾世元禳, originally referring to the Keiseigenshô from the manga/anime Houshin Engi. 倾世 – world’s downfall, 元 – origin, 禳 – sacrifice to avoid calamity. Instead of a veil of temptation, my conception of this artefact is that, whoever wears this is marked as the sacrifice used to pacify the gods, and overturn the fate of doom which would have been otherwise inevitable.**


	9. The Sun and Moon Shuttles Back and Forth

The Sunshot Campaign which had begun unpromising and overconfident was on a deadlock.

This had stunned all expectations on the side of the Qishan Wen Sect. They had initially taken the Sunshot Campaign as a joke. However, three months later, the cultivation world was in a fierce deadlock. Hejian and Jiangling were the main battlefields, but the march west towards the Nightless City was nevertheless leaning towards the combined alliance.

The heroic return of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect to their home territory was marked not with joy, but a solemn staring at the blank space which used to be Lotus Pier.

“Some evil curse... I am so sorry for your loss, Sect Chief Jiang,” the old uncle by the pastry stall had said with a sad offering of spring onion pancakes. “To have no home to return is a sad thing.”

“Thank you, elder. I’m just glad that they did not spread this further than Lotus Pier,” Jiang Fengmian and Jiang Cheng exchanged looks before they saw their ranks break and something land on the flat land that used to be Lotus Pier.

The marble rolled onwards, unhampered by the flat surface, until it rolled and dropped into the river.

“OK... this is weird,” someone said.

“Sorry, Dad,” Jiang Cheng frowned. “That Wei Wuxian and that Yiling Patriarch is messing around again.”

“Ah-Xian makes many friends,” Jiang Fengmian’s eyes hardened. “QingHeng-Jun had mentioned a number of possibilities for investigation. I suppose he is investigating.”

“The whole place disappeared! Dad, what’s there to check?!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

“Well, it wasn’t destroyed, for one,” the so-called Patriarch of Yiling commented as he strolled over, a grinning Wei Ying behind him. “Jiang- Young Chief Jiang, what is the difference between destroying a building and hiding a building via illusions?”

“The building being there or not?” Jiang Cheng’s answer was predictably sarcastic.

“As long as something is real, it will leave evidence,” said the Yiling Patriarch. “This includes buildings. Hiding a building in an illusion can’t mask its entire presence; if you take physical measurements, there would be something which reveals its presence, or lack thereof. Measuring the perimeter, measuring the incline of the horizontal surface, waiting for the next rainstorm and trying to check where the rain falls...”

“...so you used a marble,” Jiang Cheng nodded, despite still scowling.

“It’s cheap!” The Yiling Patriarch batted a hand. “I’m poor.”

“Your cultivation partner doesn’t look it,” Wei Ying spoke.

Immediately the Yiling Patriarch turned around. “You’ve seen him? What d’you think? He’s very handsome, right?”

“I haven’t seen him, but you mention him at least once every three sentences!”

The Jiang father and son elected to look straight up; Jiang Cheng did it to hide the rolling of his eyes.

It was not an underestimation to say that everyone on the eastern war-front knew about Yuandao and his cultivation partner Jianzhi, or the names that QingHeng-Jun had mentioned of this pair. Nobody know who they were; yet everyone knew they were together. This was despite nobody having even seen Jianzhi as more than a white silhouette who drifted around to kill Wen dogs like some White Impermanence, and then leave. Some enterprising songstress in Yangzhou was already singing on ‘ _s_ _o far that I can hardly picture him,_ _a_ _nd yet last night I saw him in a dream_ ’.1

“Is he really that handsome?” Wei Ying continued. “The Twin Jades of Lan are the top pick in looks – can your Jianzhi compare to Lan Zhan?”

Here the guffaw practically echoed throughout Yunmeng. “Definitely!”

“So why don’t I see him around?”

“I don’t know either,” The Yiling Patriarch shrugged. “Perhaps because this also happened to the Unclean Realm.”

“This happened in Qinghe too?!” Jiang Cheng demanded.

“The other day. You guys are luckier,” came the insouciant reply. “H- Second Young Master Nie was at home when the Unclean Realm disappeared.”

“And Second Young Master Nie is alright?” Jiang Fengmian asked.

“Meng Yao and QingHeng-Jun are currently scouring Qinghe, but...” the tone suddenly turned serious: “It is as if he is no longer in this world.”

A sudden weight on his shoulder made Jiang Cheng look over to his father, who had suddenly grabbed him. “D- Dad?”

Jiang Fengmian squeezed the shoulder. “We must thank that boy, then,” he sighed at last. “Still, the Wen Sect has found quite an able person, to have spirited away two of the five great cultivation residences. Houses can be rebuilt, but people...”

“Now you remember who is your son!” Yu Ziyuan snapped as she approached them. “Yet you can’t seem to remember that the ancestral hall and the ancestral graves were also taken!”

“Sanniang, physical things can be rebuilt,” Jiang Fengmian persuaded, but the look on his face indicated that he did not convince even himself.

“The _graves_?!” Jiang Cheng rebutted. “Dad! This is serious!”

“They were a part of Lotus Pier to begin with,” Jiang Fengmian admitted. “It is not out of the ordinary to think that they are... attached to Lotus Pier.”

“I agree.”

The three members of the Jiang family turned towards the Yiling Patriarch immediately.

“If a destruction technique was used to level Lotus Pier, then at least the foundations and underground rooms would be left,” the man in black reported. “If it was a digging technique, the giant hole left behind would have served as evidence. The only conceivable idea of what happened is... as if the entire physical structure was erased from existence, or transported out of this world.”

“You mean... the Peach Blossom Spring Beyond the World?” Jiang Fengmian asked.

“Or a similar concept,” came the admission. “But it also makes no sense from a cultivation standpoint. What would stealing the houses of the great sects do?”

“Do we even need to ask about Wen Ruohan’s intentions?” Yu Ziyuan sneered. “We can march to Nightless City and demand it ourselves! Serves them right to be drying out in that drought!”

This remark seemed like nothing, but here the Yiling Patriarch stiffened.

“Madam Yu, forgive my impertinence... Qishan is under a drought right now?” he asked.

“It is. Serves them right.”

“Well... let’s try to find out what happened to the house first,” the Yiling Patriarch said at last. “So, I would need an account of the course of events.”

“Jiang Cheng, Lan Zhan and I were on the way to Lotus Pier from Dusk-Creek Mountain,” Wei Ying spoke up. “On the way there, we passed over Yiling, and we met up with an acquaintance riding his sword. That acquaintance was also on the way to Yunmeng to inform us already, so it was really by chance.”

“That Wen... well, that guy was pretty good,” Jiang Cheng relaxed.

“Of course Wen Ning is a good guy!” Wei Ying protested. “He told us in order to repay us, right?!”

“I hope he did not get caught,” Jiang Fengmian spoke up. “That sounds like the most promising of the Wen Sect’s new generation, risking his life to save us from the Wen Sect’s newest weapon.”

“But...” the Yiling Patriarch considered. “Wait. This boy... Wen Ning?”

“Wen Ning, Wen Qionglin,” Wei Ying confirmed. “His elder sister is Wen Qing. His personality is... a bit like _Shijie_.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, before he paused, and frowned. He then closed his mouth. “I actually... can’t find any words to refute that.”

There was a snort, hastily stifled. “But he heard this in Yiling?”

“The Wen Sect has a supervision office in Yiling,” Wei Ying clarified. “Wen Qing is the Office Leader. Wen Ning said he heard someone in the Yiling supervision office going to test out a new weapon, so they said.”

“That... makes no sense,” Madam Yu said at last. “A weapon of this scale and power would, under common sense, be supervised by the direct Wen bloodline. How did this fall to the Yiling supervision office?”

The Yiling Patriarch glanced at the skies, before bowing. “You can try invading Yiling to get an answer. That is my recommendation. I apologise that I cannot do any more at this point.”

“Of course, at least our family is still intact,” Jiang Fengmian inclined his head.

“Thank you, Young Master Yuandao.”

“Young Master Yuandao is leaving?” Jiang Yanli had come out of the Jiang Sect’s encampment, holding a trap laden with bowls of fragrant soup. “Would you not have a bowl before you leave? Ah-Xian, Ah-Cheng, save one for our guest.”

“Try this!” Wei Ying quickly pushed a bowl into the other’s hand. “The soup _Shijie_ makes is the best in the world.”

“...en,” the Yiling Patriarch agreed. “I know.”

* * *

Over a thousand _li_ away was Qinghe, where the Qinghe Nie Sect stood sentinel over. Yet for once the Nie Sect’s current leader did not exactly look like an angry immortal out to kill demons, but a worried young man seated before a _guqin_ in the middle of the Nie Sect’s encampment.

The _guqin_ made a few feeble notes before it quieted.

“...the house disappeared, and Second Young Master Nie with it,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “Where did it go, we don’t know. Where did Second Young Master Nie go, we don’t know.”

“QingHeng-Jun, I am certain that Sect Chief Nie understands the gravity of the situation,” Meng Yao pushed a cup of tea into the young chief’s hands, and he took a drink without saying anything else.

Nie Mingjue’s expression was solemn as he took another sip. “When I find the Wen dog that did this, he will _pay_.”

“Did you receive a hostage note?”

“No!”

QingHeng-Jun turned to a Nie disciple. “Did a messenger arrive from the Wen Sect?”

“N- Not at all, Sect Chief Lan!” The Nie disciple saluted.

Nie Mingjue frowned. “Why did you ask them?!”

“I was considering if the Qishan Wen Sect had sent a messenger, who was then beheaded by your guards without notice, Sect Chief Nie,” QingHeng-Jun frowned. “The value of a hostage lies in the knowledge that there _is_ a hostage. Your younger brother is nowhere to be found, not by the spirits of the heavens and the earth nor under it.”

“But... he can’t be... dead...” Nie Mingjue slowly said.

“If he were dead, we can contact a dead spirit,” QingHeng-Jun dismissed. “As for the Unclean Realm not being here... will the Nie Sect be alright?”

“Most of the important documents were already moved to other holdings in Qinghe,” Meng Yao reported by the side. “Sect Chief, Sect Chief Nie has also allowed us to check the Sabre Hall at Xinglu Ridge.”

After the fracas at Lanling, Meng Yao had officially joined under the banner of the Gusu Lan Sect. Dressed in light yellow robes, he still cut a striking figure amongst the men that QingHeng-Jun lead. This was not out of posture, but because Meng Yao was QingHeng-Jun’s current deputy.

One time, a rogue cultivator under the Gusu Lan Sect had openly accused Meng Yao as a ‘thief of techniques’. QingHeng-Jun had thus stumbled upon that scene. Upon hearing this, QingHeng-Jun raised his hand not against the rogue cultivator, but against Lan Xichen who had been nearby.

The rogue cultivator, Meng Yao, even Lan Xichen himself had been stunned into silence. “F- Father?”

“Xichen. As leader of the men here, they should learn the Lan Sect’s rules.” QingHeng-Jun had then said. “As a leader of men, for your men to commit such a mistake before you, it falls that they should be punished, and their leader punished with them for remission of duty. Go receive your punishment, and take your man with you.”

Afterwards, he had turned to Meng Yao. “I see that your footwork is nimble, if not solid enough. You would require a long-range technique. I will teach you Chord Assassination at lunch break.”

Then he had walked off, but the message was made clear.

Everyone knew that Meng Yao was not like the other disciples. His foundation was so poor, that he could never reach new heights. Thus, with cultivation, he could only aim for quantity instead of quality. Using his eidetic memory to learn the techniques of other sects. Yet for QingHeng-Jun to protect him so openly, even putting him ahead of the heir apparent Lan Xichen, had caused Meng Yao’s reputation to increase by leaps and bounds overnight.

“The ancestral tombs are still safe. Only the ancestral hall would be hard to replace,” Nie Mingjue suddenly spoke up. “Find... find Huaisang. Please.”

“...” QingHeng-Jun pondered. “Please let us search around Qinghe for a bit more, Sect Chief Nie.”

“Of course. Please.”

“And... I understand that Xichen is already holding down the fort in Hejian,” QingHeng-Jun considered further. “During this time, I hope that you would devote yourself to finding a new house, and consider my assistance in calming your mind. Your honoured brother would not wish for you to fall apart at this juncture.”

“Finding a house?!” Nie Mingjue sat up straighter. “The Wen Sect is still rampant in Hejian!”

“Sect Chief Nie,” Meng Yao pressed. “You must ensure that Second Young Master Nie has somewhere to return to. Assuming that he manages to escape his captors and wander to Qinghe, and finds nobody familiar here, you would have caused yourself some needless trouble and lots more worry.”

“I- I see,” Nie Mingjue rubbed his temples. “Do forgive my outburst, Sect Chief Lan.”

“The war is a difficult time for us all, Sect Chief Nie,” QingHeng-Jun replied. “I believe, after setting up temporary quarters here, that I have a proposal to investigate.”

“Investigate?” Nie Mingjue echoed.

“We need a mole in Qishan,” QingHeng-Jun replied. “If we are to check if Second Young Master Nie is alive or dead, we need to get someone into Nightless City. Sect Chief Nie will have to play an integral role in this.”

“If QingHeng-Jun commands me anything, this Nie will do it without hesitation.”

“Then I shall hold you to that promise. Meng Yao, please assist Sect Chief Nie.”

“Yes, Chief.” Meng Yao escorted Nie Mingjue with a slightly worried smile.

QingHeng-Jun waited until the two had left, before he turned around. “Did you hear them... Wangji?”

From behind the tent stepped out a man in white, a bamboo conical hat over his head and draped in gauze. “...Father.”

“You have grown well.”

“I have been a shame to our rules.”

“I do not think you have done wrong by your heart,” QingHeng-Jun said. “I would have done the same if it would change anything.”

“...” Lan Wangji said after a long while: “If it would change?”

“If it would change _anything_ ,” QingHeng-Jun confirmed. “If the campaign against the Wen Sect was already coming, I imagine that myself in your memory was always in seclusion. Alas, we cannot always go back in time to change the things we wish to change.”

“You knew that Wen Ruohan would come kill you, Father.” Lan Wangji spoke with certainty. “His burning of the Cloud Recesses was a ruse; it was all to kill Father.”

“It was certainly the main objective; the _only_ objective to Wen Ruohan’s sons, but not to any half-intelligent nanny hired by Wen Ruohan to protect them,” QingHeng-Jun mused. “Useless in the end. They still died.”

“You let Mother die alone.”

“...” QingHeng-Jun closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“...why?”

“In a chaotic world, you need the awareness of being in a chaotic world to survive. This includes doing what is necessary, to ensure that the children survive.” QingHeng-Jun considered Lan Wangji. “She was a strong woman, but... I am sorry that our past affected you so deeply.”

“...” Lan Wangji nodded. “I accept your apology.”

“Thank you.”

“My... younger self...”

“Perhaps your younger self would be happier than you were now,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “I hear that he receives letters regularly from Yunmeng.”

“En. I will have to pick up Wei Ying there before we go to Luoyi.”

“Of course.”

A while, then QingHeng-Jun looked back: “The Gentian House is still intact. If you cannot find a way back in Luoyi, I do not think she would mind giving our ‘son-in-law’ a roof while lost from his home and his time.”

“...thank you.”

After a moment, Lan Wangji asked: “Was your seclusion a ruse? Did Mother...”

“I cannot answer that yet,” said QingHeng-Jun. “Otherwise, her sacrifice would have been in vain.”

* * *

“I find that I understand my father even less.”

With the two of them riding Bichen, Wei Wuxian shifted in Lan Wangji’s embrace as they had left Yunmeng airspace. “QingHeng-Jun?”

“In order to ensure the clan’s survival, he turned his back on the rules.”

“Finally, a mortal man.” Wei Wuxian sat straighter to reach back and trace Lan Wangji’s cheek. “Lan Zhan, nothing against your clan’s rules, but in a chaotic world all rules are broken. I don’t like QingHeng-Jun’s choice any more, but not even I can disagree that it worked.”

Suddenly, a wicked smile spread across Wei Wuxian’s face. “Say, do you think that QingHeng-Jun was in seclusion in name only, but was in fact living with your mother all the time?!”

“...Wei Ying, you have a terrible opinion of Father.” The frown was audible in Lan Wangji’s voice.

“After all, we as children never understood the world of adults, and as adults we understand the actions of our parents even less,” Wei Ying mused. “You thought that, didn’t you?”

“...”

“So you did.” Wei Wuxian pondered. “And QingHeng-Jun?”

“He could not tell me yet.”

“Let us ensure he survives this war, then, so that we would know.” Wei Wuxian assured. “If QingHeng-Jun had done that... old Mister Lan must have had some idea.”

“...en.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “So... how was Qinghe?”

“Gone. Like Lotus Pier.”

“Ah.” Wei Wuxian sighed: “Wen Ning was the one who warned the Jiang Sect. The Wen Sect’s secret weapon came out of Yiling that time.”

“Wen Qionglin...” Lan Wangji echoed.

“Are you jealous~?”

“...”

“Fine, fine, this time we’re dropping into Luoyi to find the Crow Terrace,” Wei Wuxian sighed, fiddling with the paper in his hands with the black crow emblem. Behind the paper was written a single line of poetry: “ ‘Circling the tree three times, on which branch can they rest’? ”2

Luoyi, also called Luoyang. Named as the Divine Capital, it rested right outside of the boundary line of the Nightless City. The Buddha sat at the head of the Dragon’s Gate Grottoes, the statues of bodhisattvas on either side, and under their gaze passed an immortal flying past...

Like in another lifetime, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji entered Luoyi through the Longmen Village south of the city. The roofs of the king’s palace shimmered green, tall buildings surrounding it within the city centre to spread out to manors and parks and markets.

On the main street, uniformed guards carrying sabres were clearing the road. “Make way, make way, the Prince of Ximen is coming through! Make way!”

“Now I know why cultivators tend to stay away from cities,” Wei Wuxian muttered as he moved with Lan Wangji to the sidelines to watch a palanquin enclosed in silk curtains. “Where are we supposed to find the Crow Terrace?”

“En,” Lan Wangji looked anywhere but at the chair.

“Auntie, you’re selling lychees? How rare!” Wei Wuxian immediately paid for a basket of lychees on the spot.

“Thank you, young master,” The fruit-seller saw that his companion was not ordinary, and accepted it with a smile. “That Prince of Ximen is also a big fan of lychees! Too bad recently he hasn’t been buying any, but other people would buy for him.”

“Prince of Ximen?” Wei Wuxian put on an expression which meant that he was listening intently.

“Xuan Ce, our kingdom’s Prince of Ximen,” the old lady groaned. “His elder sister the Princess Shuiyue was the one who forbade him from overeating on lychees.”

“The Princess Shuiyue?” Wei Wuxian tutted. “That sounds like a great heroine.”

“Isn’t she?” The old lady tutted. “I hear that our King was intending to place her as the Eastern Palace, only to receive the protests of those old-fashioned officials. She’s certainly more capable than any of her brothers.”

The Princess Shuiyue, Xuan Yue.

It was currently the 20th year of the Xuanzheng era. Eight years later, if history had not changed, she would be sacrificed to summon Hong Yuexia.

* * *

**1 ZH:  远道不可思，宿昔梦见之。Recall Chapter 8 notes on this poem here: <http://www.kekenet.com/kouyi/201408/323541.shtml> . Also the same poem where Wei Wuxian got the Yuandao pseudonym in Chapter 52. As you could probably guess, Jianzhi is the pseudonym of older Lan Wangji...**

**2 ZH ：绕树三匝，何枝可依**


	10. To See a Gap and Stick the Needle

Everyone knew that to gain the support of a kingdom was a huge step for a cultivation sect. Yet, very few cultivators actually did that, preferring to sequester themselves amongst the rivers and lakes rather than bow to the kings and nobles. The privileges and resources of kingdoms could hardly compete with the freedom of not being involved in court politics and the mortal world.

This was not to say that the cultivational world lacked politics. It was only that, as cultivators aiming towards immortality, it was taboo to talk about politics in relation to cultivation.

“Why didn’t we bring Meng Yao along?” Wei Wuxian lamented. “He gets along with everyone. _Now_ how do we find the Crow Terrace?”

“It’s been a thousand years,” Lan Wangji commented.

“You think if I summon a corpse here, the local cultivators would come out and we can ask?” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

“That would not be wise. The constables would catch us first.”

They were at a restaurant called the Drunken Immortal Residence, which claimed itself to be the foremost restaurant in Luoyi. This was reinforced by a gold-plated signboard hanging outside of the building itself, proclaiming “Water Banquet”.

“The soup banquet is famous here in Luoyi, but for the two of us it’s really too much,” Wei Wuxian complained when Lan Wangji had ordered a Swallow Dish. “A spicy one!”

The result which came up was definitely red enough to qualify as spicy.

“Pepper and capsicum soup!!” Wei Wuxian panted into his meal. “They added carp too!”

“En.”

“So, the Crow Terrace,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “According to your ancestor, Lan Zhan, it should be in Luoyang, but we don’t know if it’s still standing after a thousand years or so. Actually, I don’t even know, why did your ancestor refer us to here?”

“There must be a reason,” Lan Wangji agreed.

After lunch, Lan Wangji paid, before they went out into the crowded streets of Luoyi once more, turning through the streets and alleys. Once, Lan Wangji even fished Wei Wuxian out of the red-light district before they continued walking.

“Turn around the tree three times... they can’t be intending for us to fly around Luoyi three times, right?” Wei Wuxian complained before he walked into a pillar. “Ow!”

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji quickly reached out a hand to pick him up.

“Lan Zhan, you’re getting stronger...” Wei Wuxian glanced up, towards the black crow emblem. “Finally!”

* * *

On the surface, the Crow Terrace did not look otherworldly. Only, it seemed that everyone around it saw it, then their eyes slid over it and they went on with their business.

“An array to mislead people,” Wei Wuxian grumbled as he dragged Lan Wangji inside. “Why did they put it in the middle of a city though...”

The Crow Terrace’s main gate led up a tiled path to the main doors. The front courtyard was small, a writing desk placed before a silk screen upon which the words ‘Circling the tree three times, on which branch can they rest’ had been painted in calligraphy, along with the black crow symbol on the paper that Lan Mei had given Wei Wuxian.

“Welcome to the Crow Terrace, honoured guests,” a woman rose from behind the writing desk. The dark robes she wore bore a white motif of the crow symbol, and the pattern of wings along her sleeves suggested a grace to her limbs. “How may I assist you?”

“This... I was informed that the Crow Terrace has information?”

The woman inclined her head. “Then, honoured guest, please produce proof of reference.”

The two of them exchanged looks. “Eh?”

“The Crow Terrace prides itself on the provision of information on the strange and mysterious,” the woman began to recite. “Since the nature of our services are vast, in order to access our Library one must either be a member in good standing, or have provided proof of reference from our members to verify your acquaintance. Once you have made a contribution of ten items to the collection you may submit yourself for consideration of membership.”

“Er...” Wei Wuxian produced the paper from Lan Mei. “Would this do?”

The woman took the paper, and then from under the writing desk she pulled out a basin of water. Dropping the paper into the water, all three watched as the ink washed off into the water, forming words on the rippling surface:

**蓝雅**

Drawing the paper out and returning the miraculously dry paper to a stunned Wei Wuxian, she then put away the basin, before a huge codex slammed into the writing desk.

“That’s... not the member’s name,” Wei Wuxian said.

“We allow the use of pseudonyms, so long as you may verify yourself as a member of the Crow Terrace under the pseudonym.” The codex was opened, and the woman began to thumb through it.

“Reference from late member Lan Ya verified,” she said after a while. “Please wait a moment, I will summon one of our employees to assist you.”

So saying, the woman turned around, and from under the desk took out a hand-bell. Shaking it in her hand, the silence was momentarily disrupted by its melodic tone until another woman in the same black-and-white robes appeared, her hair tied up in twin-twists on either side of her head unlike the first woman’s single loose bun.

“Canggeng, these two are guests here on referral,” the first woman stated.

“Welcome to the Crow Terrace, honoured guests,” the woman named Canggeng made a short salute. “I will be your guide for today, please call me Canggeng. Please, follow me.”

With great trepidation, Wei Wuxian found himself reaching behind for Lan Wangji’s hand as the pair went behind the silk screen and down a corridor before finding themselves in an open corridor.

“The Crow Terrace regards itself as the last repository of information lost throughout history,” Canggeng began to detail. “Since we deal in the nature of cultivation and the arts of the mysterious and strange, our collection also boasts the most comprehensive collection. We regularly update our collections through contributions both from our visitors as well as our dedicated troop of knowledge seekers.”

“Here is our communal Library Pavilion,” Canggeng stated as she opened a sliding door and indicated for them to enter.

Wei Wuxian stepped inside, and stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji followed him inside and stared.

The inside of the Library seemed large enough to match the entire martial-arts field of Lotus Pier, stretching across multiple storeys with stairs spiralling up into the ceiling. A giant ‘Silence’ character scroll dominated the far wall, and next to it was a great chart breaking the library’s levels down by subject area. The ground floor was entirely populated with slanted desks and low chairs, complete with ink and brushes and paper set at intervals. Crystals hanging down provided illumination enough to read within, and for now wan sunlight poked across certain points of the shelves running into the distance and the eaves of the ceiling and stairs like curtains of light. Alternating in between were paintings and calligraphy works, mostly of scenery or related to cultivation.

The sheer number of books and scrolls and bamboo stacks was enough to make Lan Wangji take a step back.

“Both honoured guests have been granted access to the communal library of the Crow Terrace, as well as the common reading space,” Canggeng stated by the sidelines.

Wei Wuxian took a step back. “L- Lan Zhan.”

“En.” Lan Wangji agreed. “Too many books.”

“In order to borrow books, membership is required, limited to eight books per member to be returned within twenty-one days,” Canggeng stated. “If honoured guests need topics on a specific subject, I can offer further assistance.”

“We are going to _need_ assistance,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Do you have books on cultivation history? Before the rise of cultivation sects?”

“Please follow me.”

“So...” Wei Wuxian lowered his voice, “Miss Canggeng? Could you... tell us more about the Crow Terrace?”

“En.” Lan Wangji agreed.

This library looked even more intimidating, when one considered that books were currently worth their weight in gold in this era. Whoever who owned such a collection must be a famed cultivator family at the very least.

“The Crow Terrace was started up in the first year Jiazi of the Yuanhua era,1” Canggeng detailed as they walked up stairs that seemed to last infinitely. “It was begun as a project to share information on cultivation between the multiple schools of cultivation. Although every cultivator must pursue their own Way, the sharing of knowledge would build up to hopefully allow more and more people to advance the study of cultivation and the world.”

Wei Wuxian quickly counted the eras in his head. He lost count at the first millennium counting back, which only indicated the centuries by which that the Yuanhua era predated the current Xuanzheng era.

“With the development of internal and external alchemy, the sharing of knowledge independent of politics became the Crow Terrace’s mission,” Canggeng continued. “The start of the Xuanhuang era also had the restriction of knowledge within bloodlines, the Crow Terrace changed its mission to the maintenance and update of cultivation knowledge.”

“This entire floor,” she turned around, “contains the development of cultivation throughout the Yuanhua to Yuanming eras.2 Would you like to look for a more specific topic?”

“Wait, wait,” Wei Wuxian held up his hand. “What can we access here?”

“Your reference from the membership of Lan Ya allows both honoured guests access to all the resources in this building during opening hours,” Canggeng slowly explained. “Staying overnight, borrowing books, or access to the restricted library, would require membership, or permission from the head librarian.”

“I’m looking for books on famous cultivators in the... Yuanming era,” Wei Wuxian detailed. “That’s the era when cultivation schools were being replaced by cultivation sects, right? The signpost of history being marked out right there.”

“Indeed,” Canggeng thought, and then turned towards one shelf before picking out several books. “This is our chairman’s updated reference biography of famous cultivators of that era, please have a look.”

Wei Wuxian leafed through the book quickly. “Wen Mao, Lan An, Nie Da... Lan Mei, born as Hong Mei?”

“Hong Mei later married Lan An, taking on the Lan surname as Lan Mei,” Canggeng replied. “Hong Mei was the sworn sister of Hong Yuan, courtesy name Yuexia, Grandmaster of the JieJue Sect.”

“En.” Wei Wuxian hummed. “Are there any resources on Hong Yuexia?”

“I am sorry to report that those are confined to the restricted library,” Canggeng replied slowly.

“How... interesting.” Wei Wuxian pondered before he turned back to the book. “Wen... You?”

Reading the biographical information, Wei Wuxian drew in a long breath. “Erm... could I find a family tree of the entire Qishan Wen Sect? An updated one, please.”

“I will find it.” Canggeng saluted, turning around to leave for the appropriate shelf.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian hissed once Canggeng had left. “It turns out, what got Wen You into the  _Quintessence of the Wen Sect_  was dragging Hong Yuexia into the Tongtian River!”

* * *

“So, a lot of Wen You’s history was expurgated as part of a memory curse,” Wei Wuxian considered the genealogy that Canggeng had fished out, complete with vermilion words pointing out which branch of the Wen family had been erased, which ones outlawed, and so on. “The Wen Sect wanted to forget Hong Yuexia, but they could not risk their descendants erasing the bloodline of Wen You since only his bloodline has inherited the sacrifice of Wen You.”

“A fate carried across bloodlines due to the involvement of the gods,” Lan Wangji stated. “The debts of the father are paid by the child.”3

“So... since all mention of Hong Yuexia also disappeared from the Cloud Recesses’ library, we need to find proof of Hong Yuexia’s existence from the Qishan Wen Sect?” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Did the Nightless City’s library survive the war?”

“No,” came Lan Wangji’s toneless reply. “The Sun Palace was looted as when Nightless City was sacked, but many pieces of the collection were divided amongst the cultivation sects. The Gusu Lan Sect took charge of certain volumes which were heavily cursed and one possessed book, yet there was nothing about Hong Yuexia.”

“Ah...” Wei Wuxian traced the genealogy before stuffing it into his sleeve. “I guess not even the Lanling Jin Sect could hope to get all of the Wen Sect’s cultivation knowledge. But... the bloodline of Wen You includes Wen Qing’s entire group? They’ll be targeted.”

Canggeng appeared again, this time with more scrolls which were placed onto the table. “It is the hour of the rooster soon, honoured guests. We will be closing shortly.”

“Miss Canggeng, I’d like to ask,” Wei Wuxian smiled. “Can membership be inherited?”

“In theory, yes,” Canggeng blinked slowly, the sheen of her face glowing and almost fake under the light. “In my years of work, however, this is unlikely. To inherit a membership, the prospective member must not only provide proof of relation, but also make a rather substantial contribution to the collection, which risks publicising their knowledge within the circle of our other members.”

“I can see why the Crow Terrace is unknown with the cultivation sects,” Wei Wuxian mused.

“Indeed,” Canggeng agreed. “The inheritance of membership is also contingent on the approval of the Terrace Master. If you would like to process this, I can bring up your case with the head librarian.”

“Please do.”

Canggeng left them again to the books, on which the pair copied out relevant sections and stuffed them into Lan Wangji’s Qiankun sleeve. She arrived just as Lan Wangji had started in on a book for casual reading.

Behind her, a copper-haired woman glanced from Wei Wuxian and then to Lan Wangji, frowning only lightly. “Greetings to our honoured guests. I am Beike, the head librarian here at the Crow Terrace.”

“Miss Beike,” Wei Wuxian stood up to return the salute.

She peered at Lan Wangji’s direction. “Approved. You are indeed a blood relation of member Lan Ya. Would Young Master prefer to take on the Lan Ya pseudonym, or change the name?”

“We’ll maintain it,” Wei Wuxian frowned. “Miss Beike, how can you tell?”

She turned her eyes on him, causing him to step back. This was because her eyes glowed, a veritable rainbow contained without sclera and stuck like the underside of an abalone shell within the inlay of her face. “I once served a person of great ability, and was granted the ability to perceive the fates of all things. The affinity of blood is the inescapable, exigent truth over generations.”

Wei Wuxian: “...”

Lan Wangji frowned. “The fates of all beings?”

“Only of the people before me,” Beike smiled, even the perfectness of her face sinister in the light that she could only be something inhuman to have lived so long. The smile did not reach her eyes. “Would Young Master Lan and your cultivation partner like to stay for dinner? We have an auction sponsored by the master tonight.”

Wei Wuxian froze. “Y- You...”

“The red thread of fate,” she said, “is not just a fairy tale.”

“Well, if you’re treating then we’ll stay,” Wei Wuxian laughed. “Right, Second Brother Lan?”

“...En.”

Canggeng and Beike led the pair through another series of long corridors to another building, this one opening out to a great stage surrounded by staircases. The staircases all led up to different rooms and booth through the multiple storeys. The pair were thus escorted into a room which overlooked the great stage, and given a wooden plaque.

“I must see to the auction now,” Beike said. “Canggeng will remain behind to see to your needs. Dinner is served... ah.”

Unlike the banquets which the cultivation families held, the Crow Terrace’s banquet was one soup and three dishes – not exquisite or luxurious, but solid and filling. The Swallow Dish which was so famed in Luoyang was included, as well as two vegetarian and one meat dish.

“The auction is silent, so if you wish to place a bid, please hand the plaque to me,” Canggeng replied once asked. “As for the goods, the Terrace master and the fellow masters have a tendency to offer strange goods. Just recently-”

Once dinner was concluded, tea was served and the plates cleared. A bell rung, a heavy toll that seemed to echo throughout the space.

“Welcome, guests,” a voice rang from downstairs. “We at the Crow Terrace are proud to present our rare auction. The opening item is – Lotus Pier!”

The cup fell out of Wei Wuxian’s hands as he dashed towards the window overlooking the stage. He peered down, seeing only a flat wall, and upon the wall a crystal focused light to shine upon it, showing an image: the Lotus Pier, in all its glory.

It looked so real, so real as to pop out of the wall itself. Yet Wei Wuxian told himself, it was only a painting. Only a painting-

“Our Terrace master picked up this item on his travels three months ago,” the auctioneer’s voice echoed. “From the shores of the Long River, the bastion defending Yunmeng, arts fields, Lotus Lake, and shrine all complete – Lotus Pier, opening at ten thousand taels!”

* * *

**1 Due to the issues about dating events, I’ve defaulted to the donghua use of the era name here. So, Yuanhua ( 元华) ‘primal transformation’ is the era name of the start of cultivation history.**

**2 Yuanming ( 元冥) ‘primal darkness’ is the era name I put for the time when the cultivation schools gave way to the cultivation sects. The shift to the Xuanhuang (玄黄) ‘black/mysterious yellow’ era would thus in my version of cultivation history mark the actual start of the history of the cultivation clan-sects.**

**3 ZH:  父债子还**


	11. Grind an Iron Bar into a Needle

Lan Wangji’s hand flew out to catch Chenqing before Wei Wuxian could pull it up. “Wei Ying!”

“They have Lotus Pier!” Wei Wuxian spat. “Uncle Jiang, Jiang Cheng... _Shijie_ , even Madam Yu were affected by Lotus Pier’s disappearance! It was our home and they stole _it_!”

“...it is a painting here,” Lan Wangji said. “It is Wen territory, in a strange kingdom.”

Outside, the auctioneer was counting as prices rose – already, it was at twenty thousands taels of silver.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian insisted. “You can’t just let me watch them sell what isn’t even theirs to another stranger! Lotus Pier is the Jiang Sect’s home! All the ancestral tombs are there!”

“...sack over head.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “...what?”

“This silent auction... the structure of it, nobody wants any trouble here,” Lan Wangji slowly spoke. “We make trouble now, they will throw us out, and we will lose all tracks of Lotus Pier; both the painting, or the manor itself. Hold, wait and see...”

“-and then beat up the winner, got it.” Wei Wuxian gave a dirty look towards Canggeng standing by the window. It must have taken Lan Zhan a lot of guts to admit such a plan, he muttered in his heart.

“Did you know?” he directed the question to her.

“I am merely a librarian assigned to care for both honoured guests tonight,” Canggeng evenly replied.

Wei Wuxian glanced closely at her face, blowing a long breath. “...you’re not human either, are you, Miss Canggeng?”

“I am an oriole fae,” Canggeng confirmed. “I served in the White Clothes Manor for hundreds of years, cultivating towards a human form and then perfecting it. My skill is much lower though, compared to the head librarian.”

“Oriole... oh,” Wei Wuxian realised. “Canggeng. Literally ‘oriole’. It’s the first time I’m speaking to an actual sentient fae. I suppose Miss Beike is one as well?”1

“Most of the employees of the Crow Terrace are the same,” Canggeng admitted. “The auction has been a long time in planning, but I see that some of the items... disturb you.”

“That thing... is it the real Lotus Pier?” Wei Wuxian asked in suspicion.

“It can only be so.” Canggeng tilted her head. “For further information, it would involve the restricted library. I can condense all the information, however I would have to trouble our honoured guests to make a contribution.”

“Lotus Pier is already being sold and you’re still harping about the collection?” Wei Wuxian complained. “Don’t you think that we won’t thrash your signboard? Where do you put the Yunmeng Jiang Sect?!”

“Because the library also contains magical knowledge which holds its own properties, space and time is twisted infinitely like the insides of a Qiankun bag,” Canggeng slowly replied. “Only people who are destined to, may come. If you were to lead other people, or come with hostile purposes, you would never find us amidst all the buildings. Even if Luoyi were razed to the ground, the Crow Terrace stands, and the fae under its banner stand with it.”

“As to your second question...” A fire bloomed in her eyes. “It is the Terrace master’s decision to sell Lotus Pier.”

“Shameless,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian swallowed.

“It’s a taunt,” he said. “Who... is the Terrace master? No, it’s definitely the Five Disasters.”

Wei Wuxian listed out: “Gaoxuan-Zhenren, Wu Shuijing. YüFu-Jun, Su Chenglong. Northern Beauty, Qing Cangcui. Mountain-Mover, Huang Zhenggang, also called DaiYuePiXing-Zun. Finally... Hong Yuexia, JieJue Grandmaster, also called the Moon Elder. The cultivators who founded cultivational arts, and who would later lose all their disciples in the ensuing struggle.”

“We provide services where we are needed,” Canggeng replied. “You found your way to us because you needed us. You cannot afford to make trouble now, either, so we must negotiate.”

Slowly, very slowly, Wei Wuxian drew a manuscript from his sleeve.

“I have written down the secrets of demonic cultivation,” he said. “Is that worth Lotus Pier?”

“Perhaps more.” Canggeng took the manuscript, parsing through it. “I would like to clarify some theoretical points after we have exchanged knowledge, but first...”

Taking the plaque, she threw it down to the stage.

“Sold! To the Heaven Room!”

The painting was later unfurled in the Heaven Room which held Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji as Canggeng read the manuscript silently on the side. Lotus Pier shone in its peaceful glory in the silk-edged paper, the rich colour and shapely lakes surrounding Lotus Pier, only painted in watercolour instead of a physical building.

Canggeng tucked the manuscript into her sleeve. “In exchange for your knowledge, Lotus Pier is yours.”

“It was the Jiang sect’s to start with,” Wei Wuxian scowled. It was the job of cultivators to defeat demons and evil fae, but a fae which could take human form was much trickier, and an entire building of them was impossible without a great alliance of sorts. “Was this deliberate?”

“It was timely,” Canggeng said. “The sale of the painting would have gone on, but your arrival indicated something.”

The backers behind the Crow Terrace wanted to know how much he knew about Hong Yuexia, Wei Wuxian realised.

“You would have sold Lotus Pier if we were not here,” Lan Wangji frowned.

“Of course,” Canggeng nodded.

“But your Terrace master allowed us in as guests?” Wei Wuxian countered.

“Not every Terrace master agrees,” Canggeng glanced to the side as the auctioneer continued yelling now, this time announcing a self-updating family tree of the Lanling Jin clan. “Perhaps you would be ambushed tonight.”

Wei Wuxian: “...”

Canggeng frowned, right as a low bell tolled in the distance. It struck once... twice... it kept ringing... “Ah.”

“Ah?”

“The Qishan Wen Sect has found out that a cultivator of the Lan Sect is in Luoyi,” Canggeng coolly replied. “They are besieging the city, demanding the surrender of the royal family.”

Wei Wuxian froze. “The Qishan Wen Sect...”

“Please follow me,” Canggeng gave a short bow. “You must leave the city now.”

They followed Canggeng out through the main gate, somehow ending up on the outskirts of Luoyi amongst the Longmen Grottoes. The severe bodhisattvas and fierce arhats stared as the sun set towards the west, the gate towers alight in the dimming day.

“Ehheheheh...” Wei Wuxian’s expression turned serious.

“...you were expecting us,” he said at last. “Offering us membership, keeping us in the library... they were to delay us until the Wen Sect would arrive.”

“Young Master Wei has a rich imagination,” Canggeng sighed. “Now why would we do that?”

“To force someone to summon Hong Yuexia,” Wei Wuxian replied. “You can’t have missed the Stars Surrounding the Moon twice, not with night falling everything the technique is used. I know that five cultivators once stood at the pinnacle of the cultivation world. I can only assume, the Crow Terrace is named for its master.”

“Wu, also meaning ‘crow’, also referring to the black of the crow’s feathers,” Canggeng replied. “One of our Terrace masters is indeed Gaoxuan-Zhenren, also once called Mister Water Mirror.”

In folklore, Mister Water Mirror was a teacher of great strategists and men of talents who became great officials and scholars. Wei Wuxian wondered privately how many of those tales were actually true, and how many had been edited as to be completely unrecognisable.

“Hong, Wu...” Wei Wuxian’s eyes flashed. “Wu Shuijing was using that mutant Xuanwu in Dusk-Creek Mountain for something. If we assume... the Princess Shuiyue. She has... something that allows possession.”

One of the things that Wei Wuxian could never figure out was, if Hong Yuexia was indeed so powerful, why did he or she not return via possession? Of course, after reading about Wen You’s heroic sacrifice, he now understood a little bit. The requirements to make a vessel capable of holding Hong Yuexia’s entire soul required the sacrifice of someone with an extremely specific set of Eight Characters. While this did not preclude that Hong Yuexia could only escape once every sixty years, it did explain why the Five Disasters had remained quiet for so long.

Yet, Wei Wuxian’s accident had set off a different course of events. Wu Shuijing had doubtlessly seen the Stars Surrounding the Moon. Knowing that it was his friend’s technique, and that his friend had devised a way to let other people use the technique as well, Wu Shuijing had thus stepped up his plan. The relationship between the royal courts and the local cultivator clans were always fraught with danger – with the Qishan Wen Sect so close to Luoyi, there was no way that the local officials and nobility would be pleased. Added that the Qishan Wen Sect’s usual high-handed manner which drove people to their wits’ end, and Wei Wuxian could envision some official of the Ling kingdom finding a way to sacrifice to a deity to rid the world of the Wen clan if driven hard enough.

“We were used,” Lan Wangji growled.

Canggeng tilted her head in a gesture of acquiescence.

Wei Wuxian reached back, the better to clutch Lan Wangji’s hand. Sweat rolled down his brow, and his hands twitched.

“We were used,” he echoed. “Those officials were manipulated by the Wen clan at their gates, the Wen Sect manipulated by us, and we were manipulated by a need to search for information to prevent Hong Yuexia’s return.”

“I think, though, the great cultivation sects now have other things to worry about,” Canggeng slowly said with great indifference. “We just sold a self-updating family tree of the Lanling Jin Sect produced by the head librarian to Qin Cangye.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Why would-” he stopped. “The head librarian who can see the blood relations of all things?”

Canggeng nodded.

“Blood relations, including between siblings, descendants... blood-related children and parents...” Wei Wuxian slowly spoke. “That family tree includes _all_ of Jin Guangshan’s biological children?”

“Including their current names,” Canggeng admitted, a hint of cheer in her voice. “Our Shandong branch is waiting for chaos to break out.”

The Laoling Qin Sect was a subsidiary of the Lanling Jin Sect, thus Qin Cangye was also an influential subordinate of Jin Guangshan. With Jin Guangshan’s profligate nature, what was unknown in this time was that he had also once raped Qin Cangye’s wife, resulting in Qin Su being Jin Guangyao’s biological half-sister. Their accidental marriage in another lifetime had resulted in an inevitable tragedy for Jin Guangyao and another step in shaming him to bring him down.

Wei Wuxian turned towards Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan... Qin Cangye now knows that Qin Su is not...”

“Sect Chief of the Laoling Qin Sect, Qin Cangye?” Lan Wangji asked, following Wei Wuxian’s train of thought.

Were Qin Cangye to find out about being cuckolded by his own superior now at this moment, the consequences would be dire indeed. Never mind shaming the Lanling Jin Sect and affecting morale, Qin Cangye would have any reason to defect to the Wen Sect, if only to bring down the Lanling Jin Sect, which would affect the entire eastern front.

This ticking bomb had just been dropped, while Lan Wangji and he had been stuck in Luoyi.

Lan Wangji drew Bichen at the same time that Canggeng unfurled a scroll from her sleeve.

The painting was a small landscape, featuring the Unclean Realm in the distance. Nie Huaisang’s face peeked out from the corner. The painted Nie Huaisang in the painting seemed to be running towards the viewer, as if the figure painting onto the silk could wrest his way out of the painting.

Canggeng grabbed the scroll in both hands. “Approach me closer,” she said, “and I will tear him apart.”

They were at an impasse, Nie Huaisang’s terrified expression seemed to come alive as the sun set overhead and the shadows of the grottoes grew.

“Let’s all calm down,” Wei Wuxian held out both hands in a gesture of surrender. “This... do you have any proof that this is Brother Nie?”

Canggeng rolled it up, and then unfurled it. The Nie Huaisang had changed; he was now slumped onto the painted ground, fanning himself.

“That’s just scary,” Wei Wuxian admitted. The eerie painting, however, did hint at the possibility that any sudden movements would endanger Nie Huaisang, and then Nie Mingjue would have to inter a painting.

Slowly, Canggeng waited until the curtain of night had fallen, and then she retreated in a whirl and stuffed the scroll back into her sleeve. A flutter of wings caused Wei Wuxian to turn around, only to see a black-naped oriole flutter away, a cackle of laughter echoing about in the horizon, and then both cultivators saw the green flash which streaked across the blue hour.

“The green flash...” Lan Wangji stared towards the horizons. “Strange phenomena associated with the gods and spirits. Hong Yuexia... has descended.”

* * *

Night, Luoyi, Kaiyang Gate.

A footstep echoed.

The sentries on guard stood in file, giving a neat salute as the figure passed by them. “Greetings to Your Highness the Princess!” they chorused.

“Very well. The situation?”

“Replying to Your Highness, those cultivators are still standing siege outside. They have seized the royal observatory,” a soldier reported.

“How daring. The exchequer is emptied to feed them, and these rabid dogs bite back. Do they truly believe themselves the never-falling sun?”

“That is true.” The soldier saluted. “But Your Highness, the cultivation world seems to be in unrest. They claim that cultivators of rival clans have infiltrated Luoyi, and in order to safeguard His Majesty from them it is better that we throw them out. And...”

“...” A red-lacquered nail slowly tapped on the parapet. The sound seemed to echo into the night, as with a dripping.

“...and, they said something very rude.”

“Say it. This princess absolves you of all sins.”

“They said, if the Court doesn’t want any trouble, the Qishan Wen Sect is still the closest cultivation family about, and... and that our Kingdom of Ling should not even think about switching.”

“...” A sharp gaze, red and solid as bloodstone, flicked to him. “Is that all?”

“...that is all.”

“How dare they,” came the soft purr. “If they have arms, do we not have arms too?”

“Y- Your Highness?” The soldier started, looking up and then down towards the figure in red, who could only be the famed Princess Shuiyue.

A tally dropped from her sleeve, the tiger-shape apparent. “Soldiers! The heart of the kingdom is in danger from tyrants. My royal father has granted me the tiger amulet, and thus entrusted the defence of Luoyi into my hands. By the royal authority, all three troops will obey me as your Marshal!”

The strength of her charisma was enough to make every soldier atop the battlements bend the knee to her; the power radiating from around her belying the slender figure under the moon who, it seemed, was already in armour, with bow and quiver on her person.

“Yes, Marshal!”

“Very good. All hands on the battlements, prepare for a long-distance siege. The Imperial Guards will amass all working horses for a skirting team. I want two teams of scouts ready to conduct reconnaissance all the way towards Sanmenxia when the skirting team sets out. Do they think that they have the advantage just by flying? Are we that good at being bullied? My men, prepare for battle!”

Under the cover of night, her red-cloaked figure led a battalion of cavalry towards the encampment where the Wen emblem fluttered overhead. She raised her right arm in a silent gesture, the iron hooves moving forward with her chant:

“Lodged for the night at the Summit Temple, one can touch at arm’s reach the stars so nigh. Yet dare not raise my voice in speech, for fear to disturb the beings up high! _Crush them_!”

And with her hand pointed up, the very stars fell down towards earth and crashed into the Wen encampment. Fire and smoke started up as the emboldened soldiers charged forth, commanded by a divine force and willed by a deity.

“I, Hong Yuexia, solemnly swear by this body to which I was sacrificed to, and all the gods of the mountains and seas,” the words issued forth from her mouth, yet passed unheard by only her, the heavens and the earth. “All the powers under the heavens will pay their respects to your kingdom. Let us begin, with the blood of the sun.”

* * *

**1 ZH:  仓庚 – a name for _Oriolus chinensis_**


	12. Not One Thread Loose

With no way back into Langya and with every intention of carrying this information back to QingHeng-Jun, the duo wasted no time in flying towards Langya. Night passed into day and then the sun rose until its zenith when they finally landed outside the Jin Sect encampment, only to find both Lan and Jin cultivators standing guard.

“Ah, Yiling Patriarch,” Lan Xichen greeted from outside. There were visible bags under his eyes. “I am sorry for the lack of care, but we have been busy from a plague outbreak.”

“All from the Jin Sect?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“No...”

“Does it include Meng Yao?”

“Yes?” Lan Xichen’s expression turned solemn. “Father said... it is an evil act.”

“It’s a bloodline curse, of course it’s an evil act.” Wei Wuxian stated.

In his heart, he murmured: What’s more surprising is how QingHeng-Jun found out.

Since it was inconvenient to explain why an older Lan Wangji was around, Lan Wangji had chosen to remain outside the camp when Wei Wuxian entered the Jin camp.

The quarantine tent was placed in a corner. From there, Wei Wuxian found several people – men, women and children alike – all laid out on their backs and in a cold sweat. White pustules seemed to erupt from their skin at a moment’s notice, and nurses rushed about with wet cloths and ice; clearly signs of treating fevers.

“...deserve everything that’s come now,” Wei Wuxian heard Lan Qiren talking, in a tone more cold and severe than he had ever heard. “The military camp forbids wine and women. This Jin Guangshan, he puts up a banquet, and even invites prostitutes in. Brother, I say we just leave him to his devices.”

“Qiren, I just proved that the sudden smallpox outbreak is not natural,” QingHeng-Jun responded out of sight.

“You didn’t have to poke yourself with an infected needle!” Lan Qiren continued. “Your cultivation may be high, but it is always best to play safe!”

“Shh, he’s asleep.”

“Never mind the one surnamed Meng, let’s talk about _you_ , Brother. Our family’s young masters are the role model of the cultivation world. So what’s this I hear about Xichen’s punishment and Wangji being sent to Jiangling? Our good young people are being wasted! And besides this, you’ve even given Meng Yao, a child not of your blood, the type of education which should belong to the Lan Sect Chief!”

“...Qiren. This knowledge is not meant for peaceful times. This decision is good for Xichen.” A cough then sounded. “Young Master Yuandao, how long more are you intending to listen?”

_Got caught..._

“Aiyoh, QingHeng-Jun, you can’t blame me for being curious,” Wei Wuxian chuckled in a low voice, sighing in his heart. How was it that, compared to every other Lan he had met, QingHeng-Jun was the one who seemed more like the Chief Cultivator in another life?

The Jin main clan had been set aside in this tent – Jin Guangshan, Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao all laid out as if on their deathbeds, cold sweat clinging onto them. The older Lan brothers were having their conversation right next to the cot where Meng Yao lay prone. There was a bandage around QingHeng-Jun’s wrist, which seemed out of place until Wei Wuxian recalled what QingHeng-Jun had done.

“Yuandao, help me talk sense into him,” Lan Qiren turned to Wei Wuxian. “In order to prove that this is a very specific curse, my brother tried to deliberately infect himself! Smallpox!”

_Is that bravery... or simply lack of care for his own life?_

“...people have died from it,” Wei Wuxian said after a beat.

“There’s no difference if I died,” QingHeng-Jun stated. “Xichen and Wangji are both here.”

“Both of them...” Wei Wuxian put his face in his hands. “QingHeng-Jun, you don’t have to play the hero right now. I brought back news.”

“What can be more important-” Lan Qiren fell silent as the painting of Lotus Pier was unfurled before the Lan brothers.

“There is someone else working behind the scenes,” Wei Wuxian nodded as he began to explain the events of Luoyi. “They’re based in Luoyi, and after tracing a few leads I managed to recover one. However, the Unclean Realm and Second Young Master Nie are still in their hands... or, on their walls, so to speak.”

“We can discuss this after beating the Wen Sect,” Lan Qiren sighed.

“I wish,” Wei Wuxian replied, “because that would be the priority. However, their next step was to inform Qin Cangye of the Laoling Qin Sect that Jin Guangshan cuckolded him.”

Behind them, Jin Guangshan’s eyelids fluttered.

“Don’t even bother denying it!” Wei Wuxian called towards his direction.

“Manners,” Lan Qiren stated, thought all the energy seemed to have deflated from him. “This... this is a stunning piece of news. A bloodline curse... there’s no way Qin Cangye can have another child at his age. Jin Guangshan’s move ended the Laoling Qin Sect’s main bloodline...”

“Whatever it is, we arrest Qin Cangye first,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “Afterwards, we get Madam Jin to act in place of her husband and son. Meng Yao is still under our care as a disciple of the Gusu Lan Sect, this is our leverage against the internal strife in Lanling.”

“Is that... appropriate?” Lan Qiren’s brow twitched. “Our Gusu Lan Sect providing protection is already skirting the edge of responsibility. Going past our boundaries and forcing policy... it is not the way of gentlemen.”

“In order to maintain this front, we cannot afford to hold back,” QingHeng-Jun overruled him. “In war, there are no gentlemen.”

“And...” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Over the skies of Luoyi, a green flash split the sunset, and the moon and stars realigned themselves in the heavens. As this is a sign of strange phenomena... the source we contacted in Luoyi told us, the missing manors, this painting... there is a faction behind the scenes, masterminding events in our war. I could not investigate more, since the Qishan Wen Sect began to lay siege on Luoyi when we left.”

QingHeng-Jun’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Yet this oriole... is far beyond our sight.”

“The cultivation world still has other parties not involved in the Sunshot Campaign?” Lan Qiren frowned. “The five great cultivation sects are already in, where else would such a significant power be?”

“...not just the cultivation world.” QingHeng-Jun seemed to have come to a conclusion. “Another force lies in the background, held back only by a lack of understanding of the rivers and lakes, but... this party’s appetite may be too large.”

“I’m sorry?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“The word ‘cultivator’ refers to someone who cultivates, but the common names under the heavens include ‘winged men’, ‘Immortals’ and ‘fairies’. If we consider the words ‘all under heaven belongs to the sovereign’, then as a sovereign the thing which challenges the foundation of the sovereign’s rule is the greatest threat.” QingHeng-Jun mulled. “The Qishan Wen Sect besieged Luoyi?”

“Report!” A scout’s high voice came from outside the tent.

“Come in!” QingHeng-Jun leapt to his feet, waiting as a scout still dressed in the dirt-streaked robes ran forward to salute.

“Sect Chief, a messenger from the Wen Sect has come!”

“Bring him here,” QingHeng-Jun instructed.

Soon, a tottering figure clutching a bundle of dark red was half-dragged into the quarantine tent. Wei Wuxian took one look, and started.

“Wen Ning?”

The figure turned huge eyes towards him. “D- Do you recognise me?”

“Er...”

“Important matters first,” QingHeng-Jun rose to give a salute.

“Yes... I am Wen Ning Wen Qionglin of Qishan,” Wen Ning stuttered, his red and white robes covered in streaks of red with the stench of blood particularly strong on him. “I... I have brought my relatives along to defect.”

The bundle moved, causing both Lan seniors to jump. Except, a small hand poked out from the bundle, waving.

“Out of the twelve bloodlines of the Qishan Wen clan, the tenth branch born from Wen You... was kept alive to stay guard against an arch-enemy lost to history.”

Wen Ning’s shaking caused the bundle to tremble with him. “The enemy has returned, and to guard against him, Sect Chief... Sect Chief Wen had planned to ritually sacrifice the youngest member of our bloodline Wen Yuan. My family, my sister and I, received his grandmother’s plea and... could not help... but the flames of war reached the Nightless City, and my sister ordered me to take Wen Yuan...and escape... but the main house tried... only... the Nightless City is under attack now.”

“Wen Yuan?!” Wei Wuxian glanced up.

“Mmm?” QingHeng-Jun glanced to him.

“N- Nothing...” Wei Wuxian thought back to the complete genealogy still in his Qiankun sleeve, and resolved to check later.

“Sacrificing a baby... Wen Ruohan is utterly devoid of conscience!” Lan Qiren snarled in righteous fury.

QingHeng-Jun asked: “Who is attacking Nightless City?”

“Er... the Kingdom of Ling, the Princess Shuiyue led a team of trebuchets as well as five thousand soldiers...”

“He reaps what he sows,” Lan Qiren snorted. “The Wen Sect has crossed the line set by their royal court.”

QingHeng-Jun had already pressed a hand to his temples, massaging it in deep thought. “...this is a thorny problem,” he said at last.

Then, he turned around towards Meng Yao: “Did you hear everything?”

Meng Yao’s eyelids flew open, the feverish delirium clear signs of sickness. “...the royal court.”

“Cultivators rely on their cultivation, and break the rules and intrude in forbidden areas,” QingHeng-Jun agreed. “Though I am older, the variety of life that I have seen pales compared to you, Young Master Meng. I am ashamed to admit, that I have never lived as part of the hustle and bustle of the mortal world. Dare I ask if you could share some insights on this problem?”

“...Most cultivators are not held to the rule of law, either because they are rogue cultivators, and are hard to trace, or belong to the cultivation sects, and thus are the local tyrants,” Meng Yao panted after a long moment. “The effort, both in manpower and politically, to take down one cultivator, is beyond most local county magistracies. A royal court, with all its military and economic resources... if it makes an example of a cultivation sect, a powerful cultivation sect, it would imply that cultivators, too, are subject to the rule of law and rites, and all of the responsibilities held within. Taxes, conscription, participation in court, obeisance to the kings... ‘all under heaven are the king’s lands, and all within the four shores are his subjects’. To make an example of the cultivation world is one step towards hegemony. However, most cultivation sects mind their actions, and never cross the line to threaten royal power... if that royal court was living within Qishan territory, it must have been looking for an excuse for a long time.”

“Wait for a long time, for them to reach too close to heaven, and the might of the heavens to tear their wings off,” QingHeng-Jun snarled. “Then when this ponderous dragon has swallowed the sun, it will turn its eyes on the rest of us. Meng Yao, you are truly one who knows me.”

“QingHeng-Jun...” Meng Yao’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “...this lowly one... has a plan, but... it goes against... all laws of common reason...”

“Rescue Qishan, right?” QingHeng-Jun ignored the gasps of shock behind him.

“Please listen first!” Meng Yao pleaded. “The Gusu Lan Sect has no obligation to the Qishan Wen Sect, but for the sake of the entire cultivation world, my lowly self cannot imagine any other way.”

“When one lives in a chaotic world... who is innocent?” QingHeng-Jun nodded. “There is no regularity in war. If it were any other situation, to send an assassin would suffice, but now, were Nightless City to fall to ordinary soldiers, what would the rest of the world think of us? The royal court would be able to spread their lies, and turn the common people against us. From there, they will force us to submit, or die.”

“The Qishan Wen Sect’s tyranny has a long and wide history, so how would the cultivation sects help the enemy that we have sworn to kill?” Lan Qiren hissed by the sidelines.

Wei Wuxian could only sigh, there was really no mistake in Jin Guangyao’s qualifications to be Chief Cultivator. To be able to process this entire mess so quickly would take logic and a point of view that the typical cultivator who lived far from the mortal world’s troubles without eating human food.

Meng Yao nodded. “For our survival... QingHeng-Jun must... command... the entire cultivation world to hold out. Perhaps... a lot of people will scold you... for stepping over boundaries... and meddling in affairs...If a man aspires to heaven... another man who work... to tear off his wings.”

“...” QingHeng-Jun patted his hands. “From the moment we raised arms, it is no longer in us to decide what history writes about us. What you said today, I have understood them. Rest well; the curse-breakers will attend to you later.”

Meng Yao hummed, closing his eyes.

“If... I die... please bury me with my mother,” he breathed.

“...you must live on,” came the quiet response. “Otherwise, the grass on both graves will grow taller than you. She is buried on the grounds of the Lan ancestral plot, and you must at least recover by Qingming to sweep her tomb, yes?”

Meng Yao’s eyes were bright. It was an expression that Wei Wuxian had never seen before, at least in association with the Jin Guangyao from another life. “It is... the fortune of three lifetimes... to have met QingHeng-Jun... Meng Yao will follow QingHeng-Jun’s advice.”

* * *

The signal fires flickered all around the manor whose estate encompassed the entirely of Qishan – the Nightless City, the largest of the cultivation residences, now stood awash in fire and smoke, as the sound of metal ringing echoed. The streets stained dark red and the stench of rotting bodies and iron filling the air, still could not disguise its magnificence. At the centre of this opulence was the Sun Palace, and within the Sun Palace two figures cloaked in red locked in battle – one of them then staggered back, his cloak falling off to reveal the sun robes of the Qishan Wen Sect.

Wen Ruohan spat blood from his mouth, glaring as his opponent flashed the rotted iron rod used to smack him in the chest. If it were a sword, the force behind that last blow would have had been enough to cut him in half.

“Your Highness the Princess Shuiyue... is truly a rare heroine,” he spat. “For an ordinary human to fight me with no cultivation...”

“I wouldn’t dare,” came a husky voice. “After all, Her Highness summoned me here to deal with miscreants like you, who hold no respect for the ruler’s law or the hierarchy of things. Upon the throne is this Hong, named Yuan...”

She smirked as Wen Ruohan took a step back.

“...styled Yuexia,” she purred. “The Grandmaster of the JieJue Sect am I.”

Wen Ruohan frowned, looking down. “...you came back for revenge?”

“Am I so petty? I shall stop only with sacking your home,” came the admission. “Nightless City... all the sun motifs around, were they to stop this seat? How fortunate then, that for now they hold no effect on me.”

“He’s not here anymore.”

One foot came down with an audible _clack_. “Sect Chief Wen meets many people everyday, this princess does not understand to whom you refer.”

“Wen You’s bloodline... are no longer here,” Wen Ruohan began to laugh. “That brat defected, but on hindsight it was fate... because the bloodline which can hurt you is still alive!”

The woman in light cavalry armour frowned, but said nothing else as she used the iron rod and laid another blow. As the blow came into contact with his blood it changed – the iron itself seemed to shift into the shine of bronze, the rod flattering and shaping itself into a double-edged sword with a flower-pattern on the handle and a string of seven coloured pearls from the pommel.

Its blade shimmered, the blood of Wen Ruohan staining into the seal script characters on the blade: Chixiao (赤霄).

“Chixiao...” Wen Ruohan hoarsely murmured. “Chixiao is the sword of the emperor’s way, and the one who wields it as a sword has the rare fate... nobody knew, though, how to awaken the sword. So you intend to unite the entire cultivation world by force of arms.”

“Cultivators rely on their cultivation, defying the laws of the kingdom and the mandate of the heavens, ignoring the world for their selfish immortality,” came the reply as the sword rose once more. “Those who block my way, off with his head.”

The sword came down.


	13. Linked by the Thread

When Wei Wuxian came out of the camp to find Lan Wangji, he found his companion in a stand-off against Canggeng.

Canggeng’s hand had been half-transformed into a talon, the talon about to dig through Lan Wangji’s eyeball. Nevertheless, the chord around her neck was also a significant threat.

“Miss Canggeng,” Wei Wuxian leant against a tree to consider. “We have no grievance with you, so why do you pursue us? And how?”

“You stole our books,” Canggeng grated.

Wei Wuxian: “...”

“...oops,” Wei Wuxian took out the Wen sect genealogy from his Qiankun sleeve. “So, you tracked the book?”

“All books in the Crow Terrace have an array to track them by,” Canggeng sniffed, watching as Wei Wuxian tossed the book to his feet.

“I’m actually thinking,” Wei Wuxian pondered. “If I were to ask about the plans of your masters, would you know them?”

“I man their archives, not their strategies.”

“Point taken,” Wei Wuxian pondered. “I see Miss Canggeng as a frank person whose priorities are, if not foremost to the Crow Terrace collection, then at least to the accumulation of knowledge. If I were to give you another manuscript, would you answer a question?”

Canggeng cocked her head, drawing the taloned hand back into her sleeve. Lan Wangji let the chord slacken, and the two of them immediately backed away, with Canggeng diving to retrieve the genealogy scroll. She came rolling up with a scowl that soon fell back into a wooden expression, as if her face was too stiff for actions such as smiling.

“I present, the manuscript on the Spirit-Attraction Flag,” Wei Wuxian pulled out another scroll. “In exchange, I want a recounting of the history of cultivation before the cultivational sects.”

Here Canggeng pondered, directing a look towards Lan Wangji.

“None of the sects teach history so far back as the Yuanming era,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “Because of the deliberate lack of records, we don’t even know Hong Yuexia’s motives, except that QingHeng-Jun implies that their intention is to unite the spiritual and secular forces of the world.”

“Ah.” Understanding dawned, along with a pause.

Slowly, Canggeng held out the manuscript. “I am unable to give a complete reply. You may take your payment back.”

“I don’t need a complete reply,” Wei Wuxian impatiently replied. “What I need is some idea of what the Crow Terrace’s masters are up to.”

“The Five Disasters. That was the name used to refer to them in the past eras.” Canggeng replied, withdrawing the manuscript now that she could offer something of equal value to it. “Disasters, from the word for ‘heavenly tribulation’, also rooted in the Sanskrit concept of the ‘aeon’. In other words, those who have reached the domain of gods.”

“For example, Hong Yuexia, worshipped as the Moon Elder,” Wei Wuxian nodded.

“The Head Librarian has told us his story,” Canggeng nodded. “Born an orphan, taken in by a tailoring couple. His skill with needle and thread formed the basis of his cultivation – of all human paths of cultivation, in fact. He created the Qiankun bag, spells woven into clothing, he invented barriers and the idea of the red thread. As he continued his cultivation, he began to wonder, if a human’s fate is tied to the clothes that they would wear.”

“A human baby is born with nothing, but as he grows different clothings define his life – a swaddling cloth for a baby, stays for when he learns, the headpiece for his adulthood, wedding robes for his forming of a family, burial clothes on his deathbed.” Canggeng summed up. “The Head Librarian said, that then he began to conceive of a daring idea – to weave a person’s fate into their very clothes.”

“... to add the yellow robe to the person,” Wei Wuxian thought. “Except not.”

“The idea of the red thread and its ties to destiny comes from here, at least so the Head Librarian claimed,” Canggeng peaceably replied. “Researching on this and ruining many fates in the process, the self-proclaimed Hong Yuexia created what would be called the Feather Robe – the sign of immortals.”

“Feather Robe... the clothes of fairies,” Wei Wuxian nodded. “No wonder they paint all the fairies with gauzy scarves in temples, then.”

“But here Hong Yuexia began to conceive of time,” Canggeng nodded. “He is a genius of cultivation, and each and every step brought him up to be worshipped, but he went further.”

“During this time, various other founders of other paths were already developing their central tents of cultivation. At this time, being a cultivator was not the exalted existence it should be, but it was close. The only thing which prevented a rise in its status was the safe transmission of their collected knowledge. Yet these five, our masters, what they began to visualise was the Peach Spring beyond the World – to make this a reality. A land, a country, where heaven on earth may be realised.”

“A _country_ ruled of cultivators,” Lan Wangji whispered in the stunned silence. “Scholars and bureaucrats alike state that gods and ghosts should be respected but kept far away. The relationships of the temples and the laity are strict, the monastic code even more so. What Hong Yuexia visualises is nothing less than immortals descending to rule!”

“When one lives as long as Hong Yuexia, one begins to seek that one thing which would not change in the world,” Canggeng nodded. “They started with a city; today Nightless City stands upon its remnants. Their city-state was founded upon all five of them setting up their schools there, and the resulting industries which sprung up around it. As kings and princes began to launch attacks upon it, each of the five decided to make a magical treasure each to defend it.

“Qing Cangcui, the foremost herbalist of their age, provided an army of beanstalk soldiers1. Huang Zhenggang carved the Heaven-Flipping Seal2 to safeguard the city’s authority. Su Chenglong drew out the Map of Land and State, which allowed for easy rearrangement of their land – it is to here that Lotus Pier and the Unclean Realm disappeared into,” Canggeng added. “Wu Shuijing created the Solar and Lunar Reflection3 to identify policy problems. And, Hong Yuexia took his sewing needle, and reversed cause and effect to turn it into an iron bar.”

“ ‘This is the sword of the emperor, Chixiao,’ said he. ‘There are numerous physical reasons for people to move to our city and walk the paths of cultivation, but no reason to unite them. Here I reverse a needle into an iron pole, so that in grinding down this pole into a fine needle4, our people united shall uprise, take their fates into their hands, and take the world out of its shackles of mundanity’.”

“―Chixiao is called the sword of the emperor, because he who uses it to uprise for a cause shall gain the world,” Canggeng stated to the astonished cultivators. “The more powerful the enemy slain, the more the Chixiao sword gains power to divert fate itself towards the wielder’s side. May the heavens be stained red with the blood of his enemies, and their bodies fall to enrich the earth where he builds his kingdom. Yet the sword was lost; or, it was stolen.”

“Stolen?” Wei Wuxian echoed in disbelief.

“Exactly,” Canggeng nodded. “The version of the story that the Head Librarian heard said it was stolen by a cultivator who sided with Wen Mao. At the end, it was intended to behead Hong Yuexia, but he lived through it, and snatched it back to cut out Wen Mao’s left eye. At this moment, Wen You caught Hong Yuexia, and rode the sword out into the Tongtian, while Wen You used the last of his power to shatter the sword and then seal Hong Yuexia with himself into the Tongtian, consigning himself willingly to eternal oblivion for the safety of his clan. The sword then fell into the human world, and the last record of its existence was during the time when an emperor used it to build his empire, yet it disappeared with his demise... at least until now.”

Wei Wuxian turned to cling to Lan Wangji’s sleeve.

“...he wants to rebuild his country,” Wei Wuxian realised.

“That is one way.”

“One way?”

“Hong Yuexia is a god,” Canggeng reminded him. “And yet, this god was once killed by Wen Mao, and was trapped by Wen You. Your actual question lies in how they defeated Hong Yuexia the first time around, and not in the history of human cultivation.”

Wei Wuxian flushed. “Ah, Sis Canggeng, you’re so sharp, you saw right through me...”

“Humans say, ‘the person on the spot is baffled, but the onlooker sees clearly’.” Canggeng shook her head. “The JieJue Grandmaster is a god – there is more or less nothing in this world beyond his capabilities. From this standpoint, since his abilities are so necessary to our masters, so as an enemy you must know what he wants, so as to predict their overall actions. Am I correct, Young Master?”

“I admire you,” said Wei Wuxian, “except that you may not tell us what he is searching for.”

“But I have already told you.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Huh?”

“...”

“You just rolled your eyes, didn’t you?!” Wei Wuxian pointed in accusation towards Canggeng. “Lan Zhan, did you see?”

“En,” Lan Wangji nodded. “It was not spoken completely. Miss Canggeng, you have included only hints, but not a complete explanation which is equal in value to the manuscript.”

Canggeng thinned her lips. “The JieJue Grandmaster is capable of everything. That also includes both success and failure. Can he create a rock that he himself cannot lift? If he can, he has failed in his objective. If he succeeds, there are limits to his power, which does not perfectly settle into the understand of a godly being. This is the dilemma that beings of his power must overcome. It is akin to how a master of Go could train his whole life, and still lose to a child half the time.”

Wei Wuxian was reminded, of the sight of a beautifully twisted knot, and intent eyes still working on tying the knot. To devote your whole life to your craft – that, too, was cultivation.

Yet what if that cultivation failed half the time?

From long hours of tinkering, Wei Wuxian distantly remembered that disappointment, the retesting, the desperate need to make something useful and prove that demonic cultivation was not simply to hurt people. It must be the same for Hong Yuexia; the desire to be proven right, to be useful, and not just a dreamer. Yet if all the problems were due to luck...

...can luck be changed?

To Wei Wuxian, he did not know. Yet he had seen the power behind Stars Surrounding the Moon, and knew the deep study which must have gone into that technique. If it could happen once... could it truly happen?

Could fate be truly seized in a hand and not left to the heavens?

“What Hong Yuexia wants is not the country. It’s the Chixiao sword. Since the Chixiao sword can bend fate itself, he is using it to improve his luck and...” Wei Wuxian shook his head. “No, it’s... bigger. More important. I can’t fathom the rest of it, but for now... the sword honed into a needle, the needle into a bar...”

It was a childish thought, Wei Wuxian thought.

Was it possible?

 _Is_ it possible?

“Impossible!” Lan Wangji frowned.

Why?

Wei Wuxian stared at him.

 _Why_?

The question kept echoing in his mind. Did one failure change things? Did lives change things?

It had for Wei Wuxian, but... they were all alive now. Some fates had changed.

They were still at war.

There was still an Yiling Patriarch.

“You look afraid,” Canggeng’s voice echoed in the dim night. “You should be afraid. Because... he did it once, and it was enough to get the entire cultivation world to erase him from history, yet he still lives. His grudge lasts against everyone precious to you, his touch is in every history you grew up with, and all his goals conflict with the tents of the world in which you are so comfortable. Soon he descends into your world on the backs of strong horses and with iron cavalry to flatten your world, and you can only watch, and, _fear_.”

“He will fail,” Lan Wangji evenly spoke.

“Then you do not know him,” came the laugh with a flutter of wings.

* * *

When Wei Wuxian returned back to the camp the next morning, he could QingHeng-Jun in a closed-off tent. The draperies were stained with blood, and a discipline whip dripping with the same ichor hung from QingHeng-Jun’s hand.

The one who had received the whipping had a wooden expression despite the bloodstains. “Is that all?”

“Does Sect Chief Qin need more?”

Wei Wuxian’s back unconsciously straightened.

“So you still address me as a sect chief, equal in status to your dignified self,” the one identified as Qin Cangye replied.

QingHeng-Jun sighed. “Jin Guangshan cuckolded you, but there was no need to resort to such extreme measures.”

...no wonder the discipline whip was here, thought Wei Wuxian.

“But the curse that you used your clan’s deaths to invoke, is very nasty,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “Even if you died, and the curse abated, the main Jin clan would at the very least be cursed with a nasty family disease, unable to continue the bloodline... at least, that is the motivation.”

“It cannot be helped,” Qin Cangye replied. “Extreme measures are needed to create extreme results.”

“I believe that every man has had that kind of destructive thought sometimes, but most people do not have the ability to kill their enemy’s whole family,” QingHeng-Jun reflected. “I have to admit not liking Jin Guangshan as a person or as a model of the cultivator community, but I see that his sons are an improvement. However slight. You have been working under him for so long already, and your families have such a long history, is it conceivable that you would indeed do such a thing?”

“Never mind that it is possible,” QingHeng-Jun added. “However unlikely, the possibility did exist. I invited a coroner to check the bodies, and performed the necessary Inquiries. They all confirmed that the last murder happened just before my men arrested you, Qin Cangye.”

Rising up, he then fell until he knelt face to face with a plainly astonished Qin Cangye.

“I suspect, and do correct me if I am wrong, that someone came up to you in a moment of anger, and somehow you agreed to them; whether it was participating in the ritual, or anything like that,” QingHeng-Jun murmured. “Then when you saw that indeed, the curse had struck... If the news got out – and someone always talks – then the Qin sect would have played unwitting accomplice to a clan massacre.”

“...”

“You are a loyal man,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “You knew what would await your family, your clan, how cultivators would insult your name down the ages. So you struck first, intending to die with your sin, using poison to counter poison.”

“D- Don’t speak anymore...”

“-but that is not your fault.” QingHeng-Jun whispered. “Truly. We have used the discipline whip, and you bear this mark of shame, but the fault lies with the ones who came to you in your vulnerable moments, and made you direct your anger at Jin Guangshan to such horrific consequences. If it had been left to you alone, you would really only have killed Jin Guangshan.”

Qin Cangye swallowed. “S- Sect Chief Lan... I... I really didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” said QingHeng-Jun. “You were only just angry, and said something wrong, and something that was listening for such a prayer acted. That, Sect Chief Qin, is how gods operate to gain something.”

* * *

**1 ZH ：撒豆成兵 – meaning to grow soldiers by scattering beans.**

**2 ZH:  翻天印 – another treasure from Fengshen Yanyi.**

**3 ZH:  日月可鉴 – ‘as the sun and moon as my mirror’, an idiom meaning that the heavens can stand testament that whoever swears this oath is trustworthy.**

**4 ZH:  磨杵成针 – idiom meaning ‘to persevere in a difficult task’.**


	14. Needle and Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got something up on Saturday. Here's an early posting to make up for it!

Lan Xichen sat next to Meng Yao’s bed, a frown on his face. The scabs around the latter’s face was already drying, hopefully leaving no scars. At least they had survived – a few young children had died.

The tragedy of Qin Cangye was really one of impulsiveness, of standing before a temple of the Moon Elder and unwittingly wishing the Jin clan dead. It did not ameliorate the situation.

“ZeWu-Jun is thinking about QingHeng-Jun’s decision?” Meng Yao sighed.

“...yes.” Lan Xichen admitted. “Ah-Yao... what do you think of my father?”

Meng Yao frowned. “QingHeng-Jun is a dignified existence, of which I should not render an opinion-”

“You remind him of Mother.”

“...”

“My mother thought too much, he said, and acted too fast,” Lan Xichen spoke quickly. “So even if he wanted to do anything... it was too late. He could only resort to extreme measures.”

“...” Meng Yao’s gaze shifted to the side. “Every family has their own tragedies.”

“Father... leaves me out of affairs,” Lan Xichen’s voice was gloomy enough to make Meng Yao sit up. “I don’t like it. There has never been a Lan Sect Chief which was not taught by the preceding Sect Chief. It is as if... he is determined to cut me away from those things.”

“...I agree.”

“You do?” Lan Xichen blinked.

“QingHeng-Jun is... a good father.” Meng Yao nodded slowly. “The affairs to which he does not inform you... they are dark, ZeWu-Jun. He has done a lot of things to stay alive.”

“...eh?”

“The Wen cultivators sent to the Cloud Recesses, led by Wen Xu... they were sent to make sure QingHeng-Jun died,” Meng Yao replied. “Of the old generation, the old Sect Chief Nie and QingHeng-Jun held the most promise to rival Wen Ruohan, and the Qishan Wen Sect’s hegemony was already established. Wen Ruohan killed the old Sect Chief Nie. Afterwards, Madam Lan entered the Cloud Recesses, and neither of them ever left again.”

His eyes met Lan Xichen’s. “One can assume, that QingHeng-Jun chose a life of mediocrity to make sure that his children did not end up half-orphaned.”

Lips parted, before Lan Xichen frowned. “They... the Wen Sect... but Uncle was here!”

“Mister Lan is virtuous and well-known, but despite all of that he is not Sect Chief. The Gusu Lan Sect in particular chooses its chiefs based on ability, hence the reason why Lan Yi became Sect Chief despite being a woman.” Meng Yao slowly said. “This implies that on some level QingHeng-Jun surpasses Mister Lan. Given what I know of QingHeng-Jun, I am inclined to believe that this was not restricted to cultivation. His patience, tolerance, cunning... all of it translates to someone willing to endure what normal people could not, in order to do what normal people cannot.”

“QingHeng-Jun is a good father,” Meng Yao sighed.

“Er... erm...” Lan Xichen swallowed, a touch of peevishness crossing his handsome face. “I’ve been studying that array in Master Yuandao’s tube,” he said.

Someone so skilled in the art of social interaction as Meng Yao could hardly fail to detect the irritation of a son faced with a father who clearly hid things from his children. Meng Yao chose to play along: “It is a thing of mathematical perfection.”

“Circle, for the heavens,” Lan Xichen agreed. “The geometry behind the array also confers meaning into the technique – waves for the waters, a diagram for the constellations.”

“Stars Surrounding the Moon... the caster takes the place of the moon?” Meng Yao guessed.

“Exactly.” Lan Xichen nodded now that the conversation was going far away from his father. “How wild. Yet not as wild as the story told by Young Master Wen Qionglin.”

“Do you think he is lying, ZeWu-Jun?”

“Don’t you?” Lan Xichen frowned.

“I think, because the story is so outlandish, that it could only be true from his perspective,” Meng Yao considered. “Of course, it could be related to how young Ah-Yuan keeps ending up visiting me from across the quarantine line. His uncle keeps dragging him away, but children are determined.”

“...you do have a way with children, Ah-Yao,” Lan Xichen smiled all of a sudden. “It appears that I owe Young Master Wen an apology. I saw him being led by Father’s new aide...”

“Is that so?” Meng Yao commented. “Su Minshan? Then the matter must be serious.”

“Hmm?”

“Su Minshan was on the investigation team sent to the Qin manor and discovered what Sect Chief Qin had done.”

* * *

“Let me recollect this,” QingHeng-Jun pored over his notes on Qin Cangye’s confession. “You were invited to a place called the Crow Terrace – a place in the territory of the Qishan Wen Sect, to be exact – and they sold you a secret; that Jin Guangshan had not only raped your wife, but also that your daughter was not of your blood.”

“Does it matter now?” Qin Cangye put his face in his hands. “Ah-Su is still the daughter I raised.”

“On reflection you say so, yet your mindset was shaken at that point,” QingHeng-Jun nodded. “You were so disturbed, that you ran out of the Crow Terrace and ended up in... a temple of the Moon Elder.”

His lips pursed. “On Qixi.”

“Half of those mortal legends are fake, or a hundred and eight thousand _li_ from the truth,” Qin Cangye gloomily admitted. “I realised my mistake, but to leave without offering incense...”

“Yes, an offence to the gods,” QingHeng-Jun nodded. “So, surrounded by young couples and young girls praying for skills to make them an attractive bride, Jin Guangshan’s act of breaking up your family was even more intolerable.”

“...damn stallion.” Qin Cangye closed his eyes. “May a rotted peach blossom fall on him, may all his sons die and leave him without descendants! So I wished... and so it was.”

“Investigate that temple in Luoyi is something we shall have to do,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “And... you know how the Jin clan will react once they know.”

“Rather than let those hypocrites kill them with shame, I may as well give them a death free of blame,” Qin Cangye closed his eyes.

“Yes, the Laoling Qin clan has paid a rather disproportionate price for their honour,” QingHeng-Jun mildly commented.

“QingHeng-Jun, I respect you as a gentleman, but your disparaging is far below your breeding.”

“We who are alive have no need for such hollow claims,” QingHeng-Jun shook his head. “I do state the truth that this entire matter was Jin Guangshan’s fault to start with, and in a more reasonable state of mind whatever reprisal you would actually have done is within reason. But here we are， talking about the unintended consequences of a wish made at a time when you were emotionally vulnerable and unaware that a malicious force would twist your righteous anger to a nefarious purpose.”

“...” Qin Cangye gave a mollified nod.

“You wished for it, but it was unintended – the blame, therefore, lies with the entity who fulfilled that wish and who actually cursed the main Jin line. My hands are rather tied here,” QingHeng-Jun elaborated. “Therefore, Sect Chief Qin, I would have to trouble you to help me as we investigate your own case in Luoyi again. You cannot die yet; you have an obligation to fix your mistakes first.”

Qin Cangye nodded, his face wan. “I...”

“...”

“...I’m afraid of committing suicide...” Qin Cangye lowered his eyes after the long pregnant pause. “I had thought... but for an unfathomable reason I cling to life.”

“Then you must absolve yourself,” QingHeng-Jun assured. “I, for one, hope that you would live.”

* * *

“I think that Father-in-law is too good at seduction.”

QingHeng-Jun paused he heard Wei Wuxian say this when he entered the clearing. Due to the presence of one more Lan Wangji, and given the fact that the young Lan Zhan was still in Jiangling with the Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s camp, the meeting had had to be clandestine.

“Why?” The older Lan Wangji replied. Was there a hint of consternation in his voice? QingHeng-Jun quietly reflected on his younger son’s early life choice of emulating the uncle, and wondered.

“Think about it, Lan Zhan. A few words and a proud person like a Sect Chief is spilling all his secrets,” Wei Wuxian elaborated, unaware that the subject of his discussion could hear him. “Meng Yao serves him so wholeheartedly, even your brother is drowning in the vinegar of his own jealousy. Even that whatshisname? He looks down on lots of people but serves as QingHeng-Jun’s aide de camp.”

“Qin Cangye is actually a much easier person to handle,” QingHeng-Jun stepped out of the shadows, causing Wei Wuxian to jump. “As for Su Minshan, he is a somewhat inadequate if hard-working substitute for Meng Yao. Ah-Yao is the child who gains the most sympathy, with such a father. Wangji.”

“...Father.”

“...” QingHeng-Jun gave a soft sigh. “You’ve had it hard.”

“...en?”

“I’m surprised that Qiren didn’t force a divorce.” QingHeng-Jun pondered. “The cultivation community is rather permissive, yet, I am certain, not to the point where Qiren could handle such a... son-in-law.”

“...I am unable to leave him.” Lan Wangji replied softly.

“Ah,” QingHeng-Jun nodded in comprehension. “When we go back to the Cloud Recesses, remember to prepare the wife’s tea to offer to the parents.”

“Er...” Wei Wuxian fidgeted. “Father-in-law...”

“...mmm?”

“...” Wei Wuxian flushed. “Lan Zhan, he’s so like you! My heart can’t take it!!”

“...” Lan Wangji turned to Wei Wuxian. “Look at the ground.”

QingHeng-Jun: “...”

“Let’s talk business,” QingHeng-Jun said after a long moment. “Qin Cangye agreed to play the spy in Luoyi, and investigate the Moon Elder temple. You said that the actual Moon Elder was summoned into the Kingdom’s princess?”

“En.”

“I am somewhat familiar with Qin Cangye’s personality,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “This manipulation of him... someone truly did their research on him. This god had only used him as a pawn.”

“The Wen Sect knew,” Wei Wuxian confessed. “Wen Ning told me. They... they sacrifice the bloodline of Wen You in order to seal Hong Yuexia in. At least, that was their intention, only Wen Ning escaped and took Ah-Yuan and that cursed cloth with him. The Sacrificial Veil, he called it. It was... dyed in human blood.”

“How tasteless,” Lan Wangji remarked.

“I can see where they think it might work. It smacks of a ritual,” Wei Wuxian defended, which should be more intimidating if not for the fact that he was still clinging onto Lan Wangji. “Hong Yuexia escaped before they could use it.”

“There is another thing,” QingHeng-Jun gave a bitter smile. “My scouts got back that Wen Ruohan somehow miraculously lived through the siege. He is imprisoned in Luoyi and due for execution in autumn. Furthermore, despite my instructions, this news got leaked to the young Sect Chief Nie. I have sent a messenger to delay him, hopefully in time.”

“...” After an exchange of looks with Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian asked in confusion: “So, we can pack up?”

“One, Lotus Pier is still a painting, as are the Unclean Realm and one unfortunate Young Master Nie,” QingHeng-Jun severely replied. “Secondly, Wen Qing had also defected, on orders from Wen Ruohan himself, to carry news to me.”

“...ah?” Wei Wuxian was taken aback. “Wen _Qing_? Why?”

“Chixiao.”

Noting their stunned faces, QingHeng-Jun continued: “The Chixiao sword is a legendary artefact, the sword of the emperor who will rule all under the heavens. What is not as well known, is that it is also a sword made to kill cultivators. It twists the very concept of destiny such that all atrocities committed with it are swept clean.”

“...ah?” Wei Wuxian echoed.

“Take for example the massacre of a clan,” QingHeng-Jun said. “If an ordinary person commits it, he is a criminal. Yet if a clan-member had committed one of the Ten Abominations, and a capital offence at that, then the nine familial exterminations places this crime on the side of righteousness.”

Wei Wuxian: “...”

“The Chixiao therefore embodies the very concept of ‘nothing can block where the sword points’,” QingHeng-Jun elaborated. “No matter the skill or power of the target, the fates themselves will rearrange the world so that Chixiao will inevitably kill the targets – no matter how many. It is the needle, which guides the scarlet thread of fate to take the world by storm. Lost for so long, if it falls into the hands of the Kingdom of Ling, who has just suffered at the hands of cultivators, they now have a good political reason to declare war on the cultivation world and unite the land.”

“...and then?” Wei Wuxian frowned. “If it was so powerful, then why haven’t they acted yet?”

“In order to provoke an uprising, you need an act of bravery to provoke that uprising,” replied QingHeng-Jun. “What murder would be more earth-shaking than the public execution of Wen Ruohan?”

He sighed. Under the moonlight, Wei Wuxian thought that he had aged overnight.

“Sect Chief Jiang has kindly agreed to come over to Langya here. We must decide a course to assassinate Wen Ruohan before the execution.”

* * *

“Greetings to Sect Chief Jiang, Young Sect Chief Jiang, Madam Yu. I see that Wangji has chosen to stay.”

It was the next day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the Jin clan was still under quarantine.

“It was required under the circumstances,” Jiang Fengmian saluted alongside his wife Yu Ziyuan. “For all their verbal disagreements, A-Xian and Second Young Master Lan seem to work together well. Since we have no walls to protect us despite holding Jiangling, it cannot be helped. My young girl Yanli is here to assist however she may.”

Wei Wuxian made a tiny wave to Jiang Yanli. While Jiang Cheng nodded back, Jiang Yanli’s exhausted face only gave enough evidence to prove that the intense flight had exhausted her.

QingHeng-Jun then looked to Jiang Yanli behind Yu Ziyuan. “Greetings to Miss Jiang as well. Has my messenger added that the entire Jin clan is currently under severe quarantine?”

“A bloodline curse is hardly contagious,” Yu Ziyuan spoke up. “I am certain that the camp is short-handed.”

“Mum...” Jiang Yanli looked down.

“Mum, there’s no need to put Sis in the middle of the injured at all,” Jiang Cheng protested. “Wasn’t she fine in Jiangling? Did you forget what that Jin Zixuan said to Sis at all?”

“Jiang Cheng, quiet!”

“...”

QingHeng-Jun and Yu Ziyuan exchanged looks, not unlike duellists.

“Xichen,” QingHeng-Jun said at last. “Please do see to Miss Jiang’s needs for the time being. We have important matters to discuss, in the presence of Sect Chief Jin, and I would not like to know that what we thought of as a bloodline curse was indeed contagious.”

Yu Ziyuan’s shoulders relaxed as Lan Xichen led Jiang Yanli off. Her glare intensified when brought before the presence of Jin Guangshan and a red-faced Madame Jin.

“Sanniang,” Madame Jin rose.

“No, no, it’s alright,” Yu Ziyuan huffed. “I heard about Qin Cangye... a good family is gone now.”

Both women glared at Jin Guangshan, who quailed to the other side of his cot.

QingHeng-Jun glanced away. “Three, two, one-”

A scout was announced. “Sect Chief, Sect Chief Nie is here.”

“Send him in.”

A very confused Nie Mingjue, still covered in dust, appeared in the infirmary tent. “Erm...”

“Have a seat, everyone” QingHeng-Jun pointed to the stools around, handing cups of hot tea out. “I am sorry to apologise for the short notice, terrible hospitality, and the fact that we must all congregate by the deathbed of Sect Chief Jin, but our defectors from the Wen Sect brought some urgent news.”

“Defectors!” Nie Mingjue scoffed.

“Two days ago, Nightless City was sacked by an army from the Kingdom of Ling, headed by its Grand Marshal the Princess Shuiyue, Xuan Yue.” QingHeng-Jun summed up. “Wen Ruohan was taken alive by the Ling troops, but his last order was to Wen Qing of Qishan, to risk her life and cross the land in order to carry this news to us. The sword Chixiao was in the hands of Grand Marshal Xuan.”

This declaration provoked different reactions across the board – Yu Ziyuan began to stroke the ring on her hand, Madame Jin dropped her death grip on the bedclothes, Jiang Fengmian and Jin Guangshan sat straighter, Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng looked lost.

“For the benefit of the younger members of our bedside war council, I shall elaborate,” QingHeng-Jun started. “Chixiao is a legendary artefact. It twists the very concept of destiny such that all atrocities committed with it are swept clean.”

“...ah?” Nie Mingjue frowned.

“Perhaps it is easier understood like this,” QingHeng-Jun mused. “Once upon a time, there was a young braggart. One day he got a rotten steel rod, and told people that it was a sword he got from an immortal living in the Southern Mountains, and named it Chixiao. People all around did not believe his nonsense. However, one night, a few dozen young people, including the braggart, went travelling to the next town for work. On their way there, they were confronted by a huge white snake. Terrified by it, no one dared to move. The braggart who volunteered to kill the snake, chasing it into the woods. The others waited for him to return, but he did not come back that night. Finally, they returned home, believing that he had become the snake’s supper. The next day, people found the snake killed and the young man lying nearby. His rotten steel rod had been replaced by a glittering sword, with two characters on it reading: Chixiao, for the scarlet heavens. This sword, used to kill the snake, would show its power as the young braggart led battles in his revolution against the emperor, and in the end he succeeded and united the kingdom.”

“T- This is the power of the sword?” Jiang Cheng echoed in disbelief. “It’s _real_?”

QingHeng-Jun nodded. “Wen Ruohan is a petty tyrant, but he is still a cultivator. He understood that if a kingdom of the mundane world got a hold of this weapon tailored to kill cultivators, the cultivation world would face a greater threat than from within.”

“How is this threat bigger than the Qishan Wen Sect?” Nie Mingjue demanded. “They have invaded our homes and killed our families, the Wen dogs are the biggest threat to morality and justice!”

“The Qishan Wen Sect’s main citadel was taken down by it,” QingHeng-Jun observed. “However, Wen Ruohan is alive, which means that they plan to use him to consecrate the sword and lead an uprising against the cultivator clans.”

“Against us?!” Yu Ziyuan now echoed.

“The Qishan Wen Sect ordered a siege on the Ling capital Luoyi,” QingHeng-Jun summed up.

“Asking for death!” Jin Guangshan coughed, and a pustule at his temple burst, causing his wife to shrink back.

“Cultivators walk a thin line with official laws,” Jiang Fengmian thought aloud, looking to Jiang Cheng. “Yet this time, the Qishan Wen Sect has upset the balance. Why... did they start the siege?”

“Allegedly, my son Wangji was in Luoyi,” QingHeng-Jun said. “With Luoyi so close to Qishan, if that city decided to support another cultivator family the results would be quite fatal. So they started the siege, and kicked an iron board.”

“And because a capital city is now involved in a conflict which was not part of mundane politics to start with, the only options for a royal court is moving the capital, or... to make a decisive strike. And since they have Chixiao on their side...” Jiang Cheng pondered. “...is that sword truly that powerful?”

Jiang Fengmian frowned. “Because we use cultivator skills and inadvertently break the rules, they will want to secure order and security within their borders. Their political excuse to invade the cultivation world is Wen Ruohan. Chixiao requires the execution of a symbolic figure in order to be invoked. If the Kingdom of Ling want to invoke its power, they must execute Wen Ruohan with that sword.”

 _Wow_ , Wei Wuxian thought in his heart. _Uncle Jiang really deserves the title of Sect Chief!_

Nie Mingjue’s lips parted. “QingHeng-Jun... why did you request our presence?”

“The Gusu Lan Sect is occupied, especially since the Wen remnants are still fighting us,” QingHeng-Jun said. “Someone needs to hold down the fort, and someone must assassinate Wen Ruohan before his execution to prevent the sword’s invocation. It depends, Sect Chief Nie, which task are you partial towards.”


	15. Weaving Gauze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she rolled, Wei Wuxian’s frozen form in the heavy Xuan paper looked back over his shoulder, frozen in two dimensions on the flat paper mounted on silk.

The paper with the characters for Lan and Elegance fluttered, and then stuck itself to a nearby curtain-door as Wei Wuxian left the tent for a breather.

The scariest part was, a hand immediately lifted up the curtain.

“You...” Wei Wuxian frowned.

Canggeng’s twinkling eyes stood in a library that the tent in question definitely did _not_ open into.

“Our long-term client would like to invite both Masters Lan to morning tea,” Canggeng dispassionately replied.

“...” Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “Is this an event I can refuse?”

“You are both in equal standing as members of the Crow Terrace,” Canggeng said. “This is possibly the only time that you will not meet with swords drawn, and are most likely to gain information.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. Considering the ease by which Canggeng was finding him, it probably meant that if he refused, the next time they met would be concluded with the pointy end of a talon. “My companion...”

“I will wait.”

Canggeng indeed waited until a veiled Lan Wangji walked through the door, with Wei Wuxian behind him. She lowered the patterned curtain, and then handed the paper back to the pair.

“The membership cards we assign to our confirmed members are outfitted with a watermark array bearing an As-You-Wish Door connected to the Crow Terrace in Luoyi,” Canggeng explained. “Likewise, I tracked down our missing volume the same way.”

“No wonder,” Wei Wuxian gaped as he was half-dragged by the hand behind Lan Wangji. “This is fascinating! As-You-Wish Door?”

“One of our clients wrote down the array for the Reduced Earth array,” Canggeng replied. “Another improvised upon it to construct an array we of the Crow Terrace refer to as the Clam Building in the Sea City, enabling us to connect our various branches to the main branch easily.”

Wei Wuxian remembered that Reduced Earth technique. What was this Reduced Earth technique, which contained its meaning in its very name: to will the earth itself to shrink between two specific points in space, such that one step could literally move someone across a hundred and eight thousand _li_? The implications of this technique was, even the defences of the great cultivator residences would fall short to it since they were also shrunk away, failing to even impede the immortal who could use such a technique.

Even in a mortal body, Hong Yuexia could still move from Luoyi to the Bell Mountain two hundred _li_ from the Cloud Recesses in one step. Wei Wuxian knew this from personal experience.

Canggeng led them to a large dining room, dominated by an Eight Immortals table groaning under the weight of tea-ware, dispensers, bamboo baskets fresh from the steamer and plates of comestibles. The person seated at the head of the table was eating a prawn dumpling when she finally turned her eyes on them.

The doors creaked close.

* * *

Xuan Yue was only thirteen or fourteen, a far cry from the adult woman that Wei Wuxian had seen of her in the future he came from. She was dressed in a powder-pink set of robes, the damask patterned with embroidered plum blossoms, and her hair in a flying immortal bun held up with hairpins of red coral. Yet, Wei Wuxian saw those basalt-black eyes shift into the milk-white of mutton-fat jade, the lustrous green of jadeite, and the blood-red of cinnabar before changing back to basalt which spread through the entire sclera before continuing to shift colours.

Xuan Yue... was no longer home.

“Why do not greet this princess?” came the lazy drawl after she took a sip of tea.

“...” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Senior Hong. The Princess Shuiyue is no more.”

“Senior Hong,” Lan Wangji made an unwilling salute.

“I see,” came the tart reply. “Have a seat. Help yourself. I ordered a table for three for this day.”

Yam dumplings, phoenix claws, pan-fried dumplings, rice-noodle rolls of charsiew, tarts which smelled like egg custard, spare ribs, lotus-leaf rice, baskets of steamed buns...

“So you intend to have us over for lunch too, I see,” Wei Wuxian followed Lan Wangji to sit by the table. Bowls of congee were served up, alongside the plate of sliced pine-patterned eggs, their curing evidenced by the dark green yolk and blackened egg whites. Darkened tea was served from a common teapot, which Wei Wuxian sniffed. “Pu’er?”

“Chrysanthemum Pu’er,” Hong Yuexia corrected. “The Head Librarian told me that the two of you have four threads of fate between the two, so I had to see. How are the two of you enjoying your past?”

Wei Wuxian choked mid-swallow, and drank some tea to wash it down. “E- Eh?”

Hong Yuexia was playing with a knot again, the red threads wound between her fingers. “To see the fates of all things,” she murmured. “That is a gift ascribed to the matchmaker. Imagine my surprise when I was told that someone with two fate lines existed. I looked myself, and saw that there are indeed two individuals who share two fate lines – yet exactly which fate line belonged to whom was never certain.”

“Here is one person...” She pressed a knot, and made a second knot further downstream. “Here is the same person in the future. Now if we assume that they went back in time...” She folded the string, until both knots lay side by side.

Wei Wuxian swallowed. Just one conversation, and their chief advantage was already seen through.

“So, the moment I saw these two – no, four – I borrowed a little something,” Hong Yuexia snapped her fingers, and a maid came in bearing a silver-backed mirror of unparalleled clarity. Yet what reflected within was not the contents of the dining room.

The mirror showed a long trestle table in the middle of a military camp. The purple of Yunmeng was interspaced with the white of Gusu, and at the head Wei Wuxian paled as he saw his past self sneak peppers into young Lan Zhan’s morning congee. Beside him, Lan Wangji frowned – whether at the desecration of his food or at the fact that their past selves were under surveillance, that was uncertain.

“My friend’s invention, the Reflection of the Sun and Moon, uses the sun and moon as eyes,” Hong Yuexia mused as she dismissed the maid with a wave of her hand. “Everyone swears ‘as the heavens and earth are my witness’, but when he shows them the contents of the mirror as proof they keep denying it.”

Wei Wuxian dropped his chopsticks. Wordlessly, a maid replaced the pair, before taking the dropped chopsticks and silently floating out of the room, as if she was never there.

“Their threads intersect, and usually brush past,” Hong Yuexia sighed. “Perhaps one day the threads will join, but I can make this brushing past each other into an _eternal parting_.”

A whisper of metal resounded – Lan Wangji had drawn his sword.

“Yet you... haven’t,” Wei Wuxian tried to keep the quaver from his voice. “Because you can’t.”

Hong Yuexia raised one eyebrow over a basket of prawn dumplings.

“Wrong phrasing,” Wei Wuxian allowed. “More like, the chance of failure was too high. You have all the power you need, but you need something to help you focus that. Your scissors in the future we came from, and your needle in the present. Chixiao was your needle, that you turned into a sword.”

“Yes,” Hong Yuexia reflected. “That’s right.”

She smirked. “Shall I tell you why?”

“Please,” Lan Wangji growled.

“When I awoke in this body, the Princess Shuiyue made her wish quite clear,” Hong Yuexia began speaking. “The Qishan Wen Sect forced her father the king to kill himself. Out of revenge, she wished for me to end the Qishan Wen Sect.”

The eyes flashed red. “After I sacked Nightless City, killing Wen Ruohan should have settled the matter. Do you know why he lives?”

“...” Wei Wuxian frowned. “I don’t understand. May Senior enlighten us.”

“In the archives of Nightless City, I found a spy’s accounting,” she mused as she finished a bite of shaomai. “Third year of the Xuanzheng era, _Jiazi_ , QingHeng-Jun meets Wen Guanghan.”

Lan Wangji stiffened.

“First month of Xuanzheng third year, QingHeng-Jun marries Wen Guanghan into the Cloud Recesses. She is housed in the Gentian Cottage,” Her strange eyes crinkled. “Same year, tenth month, the first son arrives. QingHeng-Jun said, ‘the guest-geese arrives. The sparrows enter the water and turn into clams, as _yang_ shifts to _yin_ ’. A lone chrysanthemum was picked by him to gift the babe.”

She smirked. “Shall I continue? Xuanzheng sixth year, perhaps?”

“ZeWu-Jun was born during the solar term for ‘cold dew’, I see,” Wei Wuxian grimaced. “Wen Ruohan... was spying on him?”

“Even more so, since the Xinyou year, three years before the era name changed,” Hong Yuexia sighed. “Twenty-three years he kept the current Lan Sect Chief under surveillance.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes.

Wei Wuxian reacted enough for both of them, by openly shuddering: “What kind of lunatic would do that?!”

“A vigilant one,” Hong Yuexia sighed. “Twenty-three years and not a lot of content, until recently. I suppose the current Sect Chief Lan inherited _something_ from Little Mei. A type of dark knowledge, a terrible knowledge to ensure the clan survives... that would be in character.”

She sipped her tea once more. “For someone who could credibly be considered at the top of the cultivation world, Wen Ruohan feared QingHeng-Jun. Yet he respected QingHeng-Jun, that he put his life and the risk of awakening Chixiao on the line to get a messenger to escape Nightless City to tell QingHeng-Jun. So, if I wished to unite the entire cultivation world, this QingHeng-Jun should be amongst the first people to kill, yes?”

She sat back, watching Lan Wangji thumb the hilt of Bichen. “Three months to locate Wen Ruohan and plan an assassination attempt in a crowded city – nobody else could execute such planning amongst the known cultivators. Therefore, my immediate threat should be to remove the other side’s brain.”

Wei Wuxian gaped at her. “Y- You... You left Wen Ruohan alive as _bait_?!”

“Partly,” she snickered, the knot-work still laced around her hands. “Once Wen Ruohan fell, the great infrastructure of the Qishan Wen Sect fell into my hands. That is the key to training an army of cultivators – knowledge and location, not just one bloody sword. I know this, QingHeng-Jun knows this too. So, if I were a grand strategist, Wen Ruohan’s public execution would not matter as much as _the infrastructure and knowledge which the royal court of Ling now possesses_.”

She smiled; it was a happy smile, as if she was facing a game board. “I see that neither of you have realised it. See, if I publicise the Wen Sect’s knowledge, how many rogue cultivators come under my banner?”

She waved a hand. “With this simplified knowledge, and a sate-mandated programme, I can amass more cultivators under my banner. A regular police force, enough to handle even supernatural complaints that irritate but do not kill. Messengers who take to the skies, increasing communications. Advances in science, geography, astronomy, medicine – an increased market for goods, hopefully the development of magical treasures which can run on their own, creating a new industry...”

“Knowledge is the first thing. And rather than publicise knowledge which take millennia to master, why not start with the simplest knowledge which is no longer controlled by the cultivation sects?”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth had fallen open. Out of all of the things he could imagine, he had not expected something so... so beneficial, to be honest. Even Lan Wangji kept frowning, mulling over everything.

“...What about demonic cultivation?”

Hong Yuexia pondered. “...inheritance cases?”

Wei Wuxian: “...”

“There is always a market for settling inheritance disputes,” Hong Yuexia mused. “Recently the Crow Terrace had a new addition to the collection – a way to use resentful energy. I felt that, perhaps it should also ask, why can resentful energy control walking corpses? What makes walking corpses walk? If it is the soul, then does the soul have a proven structure? Can a soul be mapped across all human souls? What would the scattering of souls imply? And if the soul leaves the body after death, can is also be tracked? Can the existence of an afterlife be proven?”

Wei Wuxian: “...”

“Then let us also discuss the applications of resentful energy,” Hong Yuexia continued. “Why can resentful energy be used? By definition, it means that somewhere, resentful energy is not dissimilar to spiritual energy, and it is also more plentiful – a grievance is easily found if one is dissatisfied. But what does this imply for the mental states in which energy is exercised? I felt that the author did not go deep enough into his postulate to qualify.”

Wei Wuxian, the author of that manuscript: “...”

“The Kingdom of Ling mandates capital punishment to be carried out only in mid-autumn,” Hong Yuexia sighed. “One Wen Ruohan dies – very well, I still have the body of knowledge accumulated by the Qishan Wen Sect, the infrastructure, the guest disciples which have changed banners to work under the royal court... I would have to work harder, but it would not change my plan or my growing capability much. I know this, and from your face, I see that QingHeng-Jun knows this too.”

“Except, only he would _care_ about this. Everyone is looking at Wen Ruohan – who else would care about the knowledge and cultivation methods which made Wen Ruohan? I see from your face that I am correct. Here, Wen Ruohan is what everyone is looking at, and QingHeng-Jun knows this. He will give Wen Ruohan to them. He will let the rest of the world kill Wen Ruohan, while he himself destroys the knowledge which could have already fallen into the wrong hands. It will be hard, and thankless, and he would have saved the entire cultivation world from a military invasion in the greatest story which nobody else would ever tell. Unless – I _act_.”

“You know this, he knows this, and you’re telling me...” Wei Wuxian immediately turned around.

From here, Hong Yuexia drew a circular box from her sleeve.

“It is the hour of the horse,” she murmured. “The last of the curse I cast is wearing off. Soon, your elders, your precious cultivator leaders, they will set out. One team will come, attempting to kill Wen Ruohan. The other team, well, they fly for Qishan as the crow flies.”

Her eyes twinkled. “They will never make it.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried out as Lan Wangji immediately ran out. “Lan Zhan! Wait!”

“Langya is approximately two thousand _li_ from Qishan,” Wei Wuxian heard the languorous comment. “Canggeng will let you out at Nanyang. If you alert the Yunmeng camp in time you may avert a tragedy.”

Wei Wuxian stared in disbelief. “Why... are you helping us?”

“If you win this round, I lose nothing, and I highlight my position to the cultivation world,” Hong Yuexia detailed. “If I win, I remove a great obstacle, and I still do the same. You have to realise that if I can win all battles with shock and awe I would have done so, but that is no way to unite a kingdom.”

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “You want to prove... that your kingdom is a good idea,” he breathed. “For more than cultivators – for the mortal world. You’re proving it to _me_ , to... make me switch sides?”

“That would be a nice option. Not compulsory, but nice,” Hong Yuexia pondered. “Tea?”

“No thanks,” Wei Wuxian frowned. “You said a lot of things... which boil down to the fact that Wen Ruohan living or dying now no longer matters, because you’ve seized all the things in Nightless City, including the knowledge and the guest disciples. From what I gather, you also offer guest disciples who turn to work for Luoyi great benefits. And for those who disagree, well, they’ve been colluding with traitors of the state.”

“Whether or not your claims are true, they bear thinking about,” Wei Wuxian told an amused Hong Yuexia. “But you’re telling us all of this, and trying to win us over... to construct this kingdom... Sharing knowledge outside the sects, promoting the sons of servants to Court... from what I gather, you also want to remove the ancestral barriers of cultivation. To open cultivation to all of mankind, from the most virtuous gentleman to the greatest ruffian. The great families would never agree to this.”

“There will no longer be a single clan who can command enough forces to besiege a city,” Hong Yuexia’s lips thinned. “They must bow before progress.”

“Progress which would see cultivators crown themselves monarchs,” Wei Wuxian reasoned.

“As if we don’t already?” Hong Yuexia’s eyes gentled. “Heaven and Earth, they are not kind as you see them. Cultivation as it stands now is riddled with power struggles settled in violence; there is nothing wrong in being ambitious, or in wanting to improve the lives of many. What is wrong is the current state of politics. If the only criteria are sincerity and kindness, then why are the history books stained in blood?”

“But you would crown yourself,” Wei Wuxian shook his head.

Hong Yuexia sighed. “Very well then. Goodbye.”

Wei Wuxian turned around, and then walked through the door frame. “Huh, so strange, isn’t the door closed-”

A heartbeat later, the door frame was taken out, and Canggeng started to roll up the large painting which exactly resembled the outdoors. As she rolled, Wei Wuxian’s frozen form in the heavy Xuan paper looked back over his shoulder, frozen in two dimensions on the flat paper mounted on silk.

“Finally,” Hong Yuexia sighed, reaching for another steamer basket. “I would _hate_ to throw him into the painting. Now let’s see if he can break out.”

“Master does not seem to mind if this could lead to your loss?” Canggeng asked.

Hong Yuexia hummed. “Honestly, these cultivators have separated themselves from the human world long enough. In order to fully comprehend the body of knowledge needed to escape their pictorial prison, they would need to resort to knowledge hardly present in the liberal arts.”

“Has QingHeng-Jun set out?” She then changed the subject.

“The spies inform that the vanguard scouts have only just set off. QingHeng-Jun would most likely only leave tomorrow.” Canggeng demurely replied. “Master, if the Young Masters have disappeared...”

Hong Yuexia nodded. “Painted Skin is one of the best tools. They will not be noticed. Do take them to the prison library, Canggeng.”

“As you wish.”

“And... solitary displays.” Hong Yuexia mused, standing up. “Now, I must go assure my younger brother that the throne is his, and plot on how to conquer the Hejian front. Perhaps a dagger inside a painting... and I have _just_ the painting."


	16. Watersleeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's Eve! Bonne Saint-Sylvestre!

Crow Terrace, Luoyi.

Canggeng stopped as a passing black-hatted crow dropped an envelope into her hands, containing the prison scrolls. Frowning, she gingerly shifted her arms, bit the envelope and tore it open with her teeth, before hooking the letter in one hand and reading its contents.

In the time taken to burn half a joss-stick later, she had later navigated her way towards the city walls of Luoyi, and dropped the scrolls into the waiting arms of a young man in Taoist robes over the other side.

“Please go now,” she called, watching the noon sun be hidden behind a canopy of clouds. “Give Baoshan-Sanren my regards... and last words.”

A sharp CLACK echoed over the city walls.

The sentries there immediately backtracked, head shoulders and backs bent down in salute of the girl in red robes, wearing shoes whose heels seemed to have pieces of wood stuck to them, which slammed against the ramparts in passing. The Chixiao sword seemed to shine crimson under the weak sunlight, in contrast to the darkness in the face of the Princess Shuiyue.

“In order to avoid detection, you drank a dilution of the Tea of Forgetfulness,” she snarled. “Canggeng, was it? Baoshan-Sanren is truly fortunate to have such an able spy in my ranks.”

“Not for long, I think,” Canggeng bowed her head. “Having been caught spiriting them away, I am sure that the JieJue Grandmaster would not forgive me.”

“...why?” Hong Yuexia whispered.

“Having received her enlightenment to transform, an old debt exists between us,” Canggeng replied.

“So for this old debt, you risked complete amnesia and betrayal of your employers top spirit them away,” Hong Yuexia’s eyes hardened as they turned redder than rubies, and almost as faceted.

“Yes. However... I cannot regret it,” Canggeng’s hands shaped into claws. “I understand the fate which awaits me, so... forgive me for resisting.”

And she struck.

* * *

“It’s been so long since we met, Sect Chief Jiang,” QingHeng-Jun commented. “The last time I saw you was with Swordsman Wei.”

By the side, Jiang Cheng froze. He then realised that QingHeng-Jun had most likely never seen Wei Ying in their entire time at the Cloud Recesses, only catching sight of a bubbly teenager who had somehow befriended his second son and made a terrible impression.

He then spotted his mother’s face, and nearly dropped the cup in his hands. “M- Mom?!”

“Shut up,” Madam Yu hissed, fingering Zidian around her finger.

“Regretful, may Changze’s soul in the heavens bless us,” Jiang Fengmian brightened. “He had married Cangse-Sanren, and they have a son Ying, with the courtesy name of Wuxian. Perhaps QingHeng-Jun heard of their tragic deaths years ago.”

“I wondered why,” QingHeng-Jun said. “How regretful, that such a talent would die ahead of time.”

His eyes were as light as those of his sons, and yet Jiang Fengmian found fathomless depths in them. Jiang Cheng even took a step back, nearly bowling over Wen Ning carrying a swaddled baby.

“Watch it! The baby might be hurt!” Jiang Cheng stumbled. “Ah, Young Master Wen.”

“Y- Young Master Jiang,” Wen Ning hunched his back, as the baby Wen Yuan opened his mouth. “E- Excuse me!”

“Excuse me, I must arrange something.” Back with the adults, QingHeng-Jun saluted and began to hurry away from the Jiang couple, as much as the chronically graceful Lan clan seemed to be able to. Jin Guangshan still caught up with him.

“QingHeng-Jun, you said that there were two places to strike?” Jin Guangshan demanded. The last of the cursed pustules were already crinkled and dry, soon to scab over and fall off. Behind him, Jin Zixuan looked at everything and nothing in particular.

“Indeed. There is the assassination at Luoyi, as well as the destruction of sensitive information in the Nightless City,” QingHeng-Jun bowed. “I have received word...”

“Please leave the Nightless City to us,” Jin Guangshan offered. “You know as well, that our Lanling Jin Sect may be willing in spirit but recovering in fact. Such a thing as the destruction of archives can be left to us, especially in light of... the current dangers.”

“...of course,” QingHeng-Jun nodded at last. “Fair winds, Sect Chief Jin.”

Jin Guangshan left, telling his son loudly: “See, burning some books is a simple matter, but it’s easy credit. With everyone recovering from a curse like this bloodline curse thing, this is really the only credit we can expect to manage... kill Wen Ruohan in a heavily guarded prison?! Ha! Yu Ziyuan is welcome to it!”

“...” QingHeng-Jun strode away to the command tent, where he found a young man in white Gusu Lan robes but no cloud-patterned forehead-ribbon covering the bureaucratic duties.

“Sect Chief Jin decided that walking into an ambush was preferable,” he told Meng Yao. “We shall have to prepare a strike team from Nanyang just in case.”

“Ah? S- Sect Chief Jin knows about the ambush?”

“Well, he knows about the potential rewards for seemingly low risks, and the fact that the main bloodline of his sect was just recovering from a bloodline curse means that his ability falls short of his wishes,” QingHeng-Jun admitted. “What do you think, Ah-Yao?”

“...I think I shall arrange that strike force.” Meng Yao paused. “Sect Chief Lan... no, Master. I don’t think you like Sect Chief Jin?”

“It is forbidden to gossip about others behind their backs,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “As a person, I am free to like or dislike people, but as a sect leader my preferences cannot be openly displayed. You understand this logic more than Xichen, Ah-Yao.”

“Many thanks to QingHeng-Jun for your praise.”

“Have you thought about the offer I made?”

Meng Yao paused. “...QingHeng-Jun made a very convincing argument.”

“I called my founding ancestor a lovesick bald donkey and implied the same for the rest of my ancestors leading up to our current generations, all for the sake of convincing you,” QingHeng-Jun mused.

Meng Yao: “...”

“If you like, I can claim it as an attempt to manipulate Carp Tower’s policies close to my wishes,” QingHeng-Jun noted. “I would prefer to make it a bilateral trust, but we are in a state of war, and you have too much self-preservation. If I phrase it in terms of mutual usage, you can cut loose once the wind changes.”

Meng Yao’s expression softened. “QingHeng-Jun, you have treated me so well, and yet you still expect that I would cut and run once circumstances turn adverse.”

“Well, my wife did the same, and I extrapolated.” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “I wish that my wife at least had your intelligence.”

“To know not to kill an important person?”

“...People die, of many reasons, some of which take place in dubious circumstances,” QingHeng-Jun said after a long time. “Most people do not get caught red-handed. The late Madame Lan can only blame her own lack of intelligence which led to her getting caught.”

From his face, it seemed like an honest response. It was also not a response that QingHeng-Jun himself personally liked to admit.

* * *

After the Taoist boy materialised, he unfurled the painting.

Wei Wuxian fell out of the painting with a curse. He was followed behind with Lan Wangji, who not only managed a perfect landing but also prevented Wei Wuxian from kissing the floor.

“Such a relief,” the young boy sighed. “I thought they might dip you into solvent or tossed you into a furnace already... are you missing anything, Young Masters?”

“Many thanks for our rescue,” Lan Wangji bit out, despite Bichen remaining drawn in his hand, its sword glare a bright blade in the relative darkness of this grotto-heaven. “Where are we?”

“This is an unnamed mountain, under the seat of Baoshan-Sanren.” The young boy replied. “This junior Xiao Xingchen, is a disciple under her tutelage.”

“X- X- X- Xiao _Xingchen_?!” Wei Wuxian sat up.

“Yes,” the boy saluted.

“Ah...” Wei Wuxian looked around. “W- Where are we? Just now... everything was flat. Like...”

“A painting,” Lan Wangji summed up for him.

“The Crow Terrace’s Ground Circle Prison is usually beyond escape. Canggeng risked her life to give your scrolls to me,” Xiao Xingchen replied. “I then used a Transportation Talisman to send us back to Teacher’s mountain before unravelling you.”

“Miss Canggeng? Thank the heavens and earth,” Wei Wuxian relaxed. “She was a good person after all. So... where is she?”

“Miss Canggeng stayed back to delay the pursuers who no doubt have discovered her ruse,” Xiao Xingchen paused. “Teacher would have more details than I can provide at present. Please, follow me.”

Curiosity roused, Wei Wuxian dragged Lan Wangji by the hand behind Xiao Xingchen as they passed through a warren of caves which seemed artificially hollowed out. Some of the walls seemed to glow green, and some in different colours of the rainbow. How they got light in a mountain-side cave was also a mystery, but not one so keen to be solved at present. At the end, Xiao Xingchen led them into a room furnished with low boulders more than anything resembling furniture, where a woman with fathomless and old eyes smiled at them.

“You’re younger than I thought,” Wei Wuxian blurted out. “Er... Senior.”

“Many thanks to this young gentleman,” Baoshan-Sanren replied. “I am sure you have had a shock. The method that Canggeng used was unexpected, but effective in avoiding detection.”

“Certainly,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “She never gave any clue!!!”

“Hong Yuexia’s eyes can perceive the fate lines of beings,” Baoshan-Sanren gravely spoke. “Canggeng avoided detection by arranging for a letter to be delivered to herself after a delay, and then drinking a diluted memory-loss medicine. You entire escape was due to the letter’s timely delivery. The fact that she is _not_ here, also means... that we will not see her alive again.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart sank with that pronunciation.

“You are both fortunate, and unfortunate,” Baoshan-Sanren mused. “Fortunate in that you know the true enemy, besides a princess holding a legendary sword. The both of you are unfortunate, though, in that Hong Yuexia knows of your existence.”

“Young master of the Lan clan.” Baoshan-Sanren paused. “Lan Mei’s descendant? For a member of the Gusu Lan Sect to get his attention... it can only be a direct descendant.”

“...this junior Lan Wangji of Gusu pays his respects to Baoshan-Sanren.”

“...this junior... Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng... pays his respects to Baoshan-Sanren.”

Baoshan-Sanren paused. “...Cangse’s son?”

“...yes.”

Baoshan-Sanren scrutinised him, her eyes shining as they suddenly turned a milky-white like mutton-fat jade.

“...I am glad that you are alive,” she closed her eyes. “But... I hear of you as a Master Yuandao?”

“For some reason... I got caught in the mists of the dragon’s vein around Gusu... and then...”

“Say no more,” Baoshan-Sanren nodded. “And your cultivation partner followed you in, I suppose. All men from the Gusu Lan Sect have only two extremes of existence in the face of a love tribulation.”

Faced with Wei Wuxian’s stupefied expression, she clarified: “You have his forehead ribbon in your hair.”

Wei Wuxian shut his mouth.

Baoshan-Sanren tilted her head. “For whatever the reason, the enemy found you out, used you, and now they must silence you. That was why Hong Yuexia was so eager to trap you into a painting.”

Wei Wuxian shuddered.

“At least, part of the reason,” Baoshan-Sanren seemed frustrated. “Hong Yuexia is a genius of cultivation, but also mad. I have seen him build specific prisons and then lock up people with the same knowledge of a cultivation technique necessary to escape.”

“Whatever the reason... we are thankful for your assistance with Miss Canggeng’s assistance... er, Grandmaster?” Wei Wuxian hazarded. “If you could render some assistance in defeating Hong Yuexia, it would be helpful as well...”

“...” Baoshan-Sanren frowned. “Did Lan Mei truly erase all records of Hong Yuexia? Hong Yuexia is a god.”

“Er... Wen You managed to drag him into a river?” Wei Wuxian hazarded.

“And before that, a cultivator army of a hundred thousand cultivators, some of the best warriors I had known, and the geniuses of three generations of sects were also expended to beat down Hong Yuexia to be captured alive,” Baoshan-Sanren detailed. “We tried all methods of execution, and it did not take. An immortal by definition _has no concept of mortal death_.”

The elderly cultivator’s eyes narrowed. “We imprisoned him,” she said at last. “We hoped that as human memory forgot him, that he would... He always wanted to escape, always wanted to make the world a better place. It is not so easy to erase him after all...”

For one moment, Wei Wuxian thought that she might cry. “If he was on the side of everything good, then why did Wen Mao rebel? Why was Hong Yuexia imprisoned? How does the Chixiao sword feature? What is he aiming for?”

“...” Baoshan-Sanren recovered her lost expression. “You claim it,” she said, “as if you need to know all of this in order to kill the JieJue Grandmaster.”

Wei Wuxian started.

“Rumour of the Qishan Wen Sect’s atrocities reach even my corner of the world,” Baoshan-Sanren contemplated. “An ironic reversal of fate... but, the Sunshot Campaign is underway because the cultivational sects seeks to live away from the Qishan Wen Sect’s tyranny. It is in order to live. How, then, is Hong Yuexia any different an enemy? Because Hong Yuexia is alone, or because some part of you truly agrees with Hong Yuexia’s vision of laying down the rule of law upon the cultivation world?”

Wei Wuxian slowly mulled over the questions posed.

The answer he came to was not promising.

“I feel, that for a pioneer of cultivation and despite everything, there must be something in Hong Yuexia’s goal that would drive him... her... er, Hong Yuexia to such an extent. And to inspire so many people with her too... the political struggle behind cultivation nonetheless, lots of people really leap to conclusions despite evidence.”

Baoshan-Sanren’s gaze had a weight behind it.

“I think, given the circumstances, Hong Yuexia is far more reasonable than the Qishan Wen Sect,” Wei Wuxian continued. “Things have not reached the stage where they can no longer turn back. I think, in order to build a kingdom of cultivators, the current cultivation world shall need to survive first.”

“You are wrong,” Baoshan-Sanren stated at last, rising from her seat. “Follow me. We shall see him.”

“He?” Lan Wangji echoed.

“Hong Yuexia. Or, what’s left of his physical body,” Baoshan-Sanren sighed. “The Hong Yuexia possessing the Princess Shuiyue is only a spirit, using the Chixiao sword to balance probabilities and work into the realm of divinity once again. The true body of Hong Yuexia, the body which is already immortal and physically undying – that is where this entire matter started.”


	17. Beautiful Silk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm busy this week, so have an early posting!

They had been flying over the White Rabbit Lake when it came.

Meng Yao sat up, touching his temples. His hands came away with dust, but thankfully no blood. When the attack came from the skies...

...he had fallen. A thousand _zhang_.

Quickly he sprang to his feet, checking himself, and froze when a cloud-patterned ribbon fell from his hands. Then he looked to the side, and the panic over accidentally maybe-offending his superiors was lost on the fact that QingHeng-Jun was soaking wet and bleeding out not far from what must be the lake-shore of White Rabbit Lake.

Oh, and there was a man floating above the lake stabbing at the fallen Jin cultivators.

So _this_ was the ambush, Meng Yao thought as he dragged his chief behind a mossy boulder. Cultivators are _so_ creative.

Hiding behind a large boulder, Meng Yao panted. It was comparatively shameful to hide, but none of the Lan sect disciples blamed him – QingHeng-Jun’s injured form was currently leaning against him for support, and the sallow complexion indicated blood loss far more than was healthy.

A yell, and Jin Zixuan’s body impacted on the other side. Meng Yao reached over and fished Jin Zixuan back. “Young Master Jin?”

Jin Zixuan’s eyes blankly stared back, grimacing in pain: “Collar...”

“Well?” Both of them winced as a sword-whistle flew past with a drawl. “Too afraid to come out?”

“You used an invisible sword to cut us down from the skies, and you still have the cheek to call us scared?” Jin Zixuan yelled back, sticking his head out before he was hauled down. His fallen topknot rolled to the ground, and he cringed.

“Ouch,” Meng Yao breathed. “No blade, but it can still cut... and so far...”

A slice of stone toppled. Jin Zixuan paled. “That’s... an ancient sword!”

Wu Shuijing smirked, standing ten metres away from the boulder. “I’ve already killed Sect Chief Jin,” he lightly said. “Young Master Jin... wait, no, _Sect Chief_ Jin, it’s your turn.”

Jin Zixuan stood back up, yelling: “My father is not dead!”

Wu Shuijing swung down the bladeless sword towards a peony far off. The peony cut in half, and Jin Guangshan had a surprised look on his face as he fell down five metres away and definitely outside the reach of any normal sword.

“Now he is,” Wu Shuijing said. “And he deserves it too.”

Meng Yao tripped Jin Zixuan as another whistling resounded and another bit of boulder fell to the ground. Besides him, QingHeng-Jun stirred. “X- Xichen?”

“As per your orders, Young Sect Chief has been dispatched to call reinforcements from Nanyang. I have emphasised that our lives depend on this,” Meng Yao sighed.

“I have troubled you... sorry,” QingHeng-Jun swallowed. “Didn’t expect... mid-flight.”

“Nobody usually expects the attack to come from mid-air, sir,” Meng Yao assured. “QingHeng-Jun... it has no blade.”

“...Chengying.” QingHeng-Jun concluded. “Hanguang and Xiaolian are brother swords, but Chengying is the only confirmed case where the sword seems to have no blade, and can still fell a tree, and the only one whose range can be manipulated.”

“...” Meng Yao peered out, and then pulled his head back. “What if he approaches?”

“If he knows that I am here, he won’t come within five feet,” QingHeng-Jun replied. “That’s the longest range of Chord Assassination. His reach is longer than ours, and... did we bring a bow?”

“N- No,” Jin Zixuan gasped. “Collar... can’t shoot.”

QingHeng-Jun stuck a yellow talisman to the boulder. “We hold out till reinforcements come, then. Meng Yao, tell Xichen to turn around.”

Meng Yao looked towards QingHeng-Jun, who was looking at a nearby puddle, and the reflection of a silhouette hovering.

“Young Sect Chief, Chief tells you to go to Nanyang!” Meng Yao yelled as QingHeng-Jun suddenly grabbed a stone and threw it towards the floating man. “ _Get_ _reinforcements_ _!_ ”

Lan Xichen reluctantly flew away as the stone impacted on the floating man’s head.

* * *

Baoshan-Sanren was followed by Xiao Xingchen and the couple. She carried a lantern in her hand, which glittered like limpid pools with the same greenish light as the walls seemed to be composed of. The heavy lantern swung from its support handle as the air turned colder with every step.

Green bled into black, spiralling black, straight black, round black, like spiderweb made solid. Wei Wuxian felt the hand in his tighten its grip, about to open his mouth and tease Lan Wangji when something underfoot cracked.

He lifted his foot, and gasped as the broken humerus of a skull stared up at him.

Even as hardened as he was, his breath still hitched.

“We are here,” Baoshan-Sanren whispered as the narrow underground path littered with shale gave way to a wide cave. “Do not say anything while we are in here.”

Here the green gave way to what seemed like the inside of the clouds at sunset, if sunset clouds were somehow solidified and made transparent. The curtain of light seemed like limpid pools crossed with the shadow of trees, solid and shaped like a hemispherical dome rising from the ground. Around this sparkling dome four ragged pennants hung in the four directions, tied to a fifth pennant directly at the dome’s apex with strings absolutely festooned with yellowed talismans, red strings tied into decorative knots, pomegranate leaves, blooms of lotuses and sprays of osmanthus, coins strung along, lumps of polished jade, all manner of random good luck charms.

Within the boundary of the pennants and charms, it seemed as though a solid block of ice stood there, yet Wei Wuxian knew that it could not be so — the air was so dry that no water could be frozen. Instead the light itself must have been diffused through jades or suffused with the light of the dawn, such was the glittering pyramid.

The light within the pyramid shifted to crystal clarity. The thing within was an amorphous bunch of black, vaguely human in shape, which flowed and slipped like water where it floated. The embriodery within it was that of an endless knot, the scarlet thread winding along its hems and sleeves and lapels and the wings of its tails and —

— and then its form shifted, into a pretty face in black and red robes, and a familiar flute hanging from his belt.

The Wei Wuxian in the pyramid blew a kiss towards Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji: “...”

Wei Wuxian started cackling, clutching at his stomach. “Good heavens, Lan Zhan, your face! Hahahahaha, even the things we don’t know think you’re handsome!”

The Wei Wuxian in the pyramid blew a raspberry, “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, am I beautiful?”

Instantly Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes – that Wei Wuxian sounded too attractive. Like a choir of nightingales.

Lan Wangji: “...”

“Look at me, Lan Zhan,” that Wei Wuxian gave a cruel smirk as he began to strip. “Am I beautiful? Do you want to touch me?”

Behind him, Wei Wuxian could hear the venerable Baoshan-Sanren mutter: “Another one who can’t listen.”

Lan Wangji was looking at the ground, unable to look at that Wei Wuxian stripping to his inner robes.

“Help me hold my robes?” That Wei Wuxian breathed, fluttering his eyelashes as he leant closer, holding his robes out.

“Oi,” Wei Wuxian said.

“What?” the other snarled. “Never seen a beauty?”

“I’m the original, why would I look at a copy?” Wei Wuxian rebutted.

“I don’t think I failed,” the other challenged, sticking its tongue out with a challenging smirk. “I’m fairly sure I copied your body exactly. Hold my robes, and I’ll show you some more~?”

Wei Wuxian looked down – that copy of him never left the boundary of the pyramid. He jangled the talisman chain forward.

The copy Wei Wuxian cried as the chain hit him, losing form into a mass of black, like a robe—

—upon its lapels, eyes composed of two flat jade discs seemed to glare in undisguised hatred.

The thing leapt for Wei Wuxian, causing him to cry out and fall back. As it came into contact with the intense light within the chains, the charms tinkled as the chains rattled, and some electric aura prevented it from moving any more. At the same time, a curtain of red light laced with shadows fell down as it continued to struggle.

“If you get caught, it will drink your blood,” Baoshan-Sanren added.

“Why don’t you say it earlier, Grandmaster?!” Wei Wuxian complained sitting up before he noted the pieces by his hands and leapt. “L- Lan Zhan! Bones!”

“En.” Lan Wangji’s eyes were not fixed on Wei Wuxian, though, but above to the dome which covered the pyramid.

Wei Wuxian followed his gaze.

Eye-sockets, emptied of flesh and the viscous eyeballs which they had once housed, stared out from the walls. Below the skulls stood rib-cages, and below that were the pelvic bones and legs bones were intertwined. The skeletons stood shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand and arm in arm, stacked in layers and layers up like some macabre lace of open-work silk. The tattered remnants of uniforms hung from the skeletal dwellers – here a rotted nine-petal lotus, there half the head of a beast was eaten by worms, a cloud-patterned ribbon hung entwined between hands, a peony stood forlorn and half-scorched.

The thing floating in the pyramid finally ceased its struggle, revealing itself to be a robe festooned with swallow-tailed hems and flying ribbons. The black background was perfect to show off the winding endless knots of red, rings of white jangled from the hems of the white under-robe, triangles hung from the yellow belt, and the green discs of jadeite still glared in rage at Wei Wuxian —

— as much as a floating robe could glare.

“I hate not having opposable thumbs,”

Wei Wuxian shuddered, clinging onto Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan, that wedding dress is terrifying!”

“En.” Lan Wangji tightened the hug. “I am here.”

Baoshan-Sanren: “...”

Baoshan-Sanren gave a cough. “This is Hong Yuexia’s ultimate artefact, the Dress of Heaven, Wufeng.”

“....‘heaven’s clothes has no seams’1?” Wei Wuxian guessed.

“Indeed.” Baoshan-Sanren’s eyes lidded over. “In a sense, it is also Hong Yuexia’s body.”

“...a possessed robe?” Wei Wuxian guessed.

The robe laughed, like the rasp of silk. “Do you want to try?”

“Yes and no,” Baoshan-Sanren sighed. “I must start from the beginning. Come along, we don’t want to disturb Wufeng.”

“Brat, don’t call me by my name!” the robe screeched. “Do you even have the right? I’m older than your entire mountain combined! Damn son of that bald donkey, wait and see when I slaughter your elders!”

“Good _night_ , Wufeng.” She turned around, the green lantern swinging. It seemed almost black in the reddish light. “Please,” she said to a skeleton, “make sure he sleeps.”

The skeleton nodded.

That was... fairly creepy.

“Traitor! Murderer!” Wufeng’s words echoed behind them.

Swallowing, Wei Wuxian let Lan Wangji carry him up through the narrow passageway littered with shale – no, _bones_ – and did not let go until they reached the surface.

* * *

Xiao Xingchen quietly served tea once they reached the surface. Baoshan-Sanren took the tea with shaking hands, sipping quietly. Both the couple drank their tea, waiting for her to speak.

Yet to their surprise, what Baoshan-Sanren uttered was not an explanation at first, but a poem:

   
_A thread in a mother's loving hand,_  
Makes up the clothes for her travelling son.  
Knitting all her affection into every stitch,  
She's worrying he'd be away for too long.  
\-- How could the grateful humble grass  
Ever repay the kindness of the generous sun? 2  
 

“The Dress of Heaven Wufeng, was first made from the founder of the JieJue Sect to pass to the successor.” Baoshan-Sanren said at last.

“In the span of a lifetime Hong Yuexia had attained everything worth attaining in the mortal world — hordes of disciples, high cultivation, immortality and divinity, prayers from the four quarters, the power to fulfil wishes, magical treasures piled high as mountains, lands as far as the eye could see, a king in everything but name. He had taught disciples, and matched them, where they formed families and had grand-disciples, and they continued the lineage.”

“He taught his successor, made this as a mantle for the successor to inherit, and one day he retired into seclusion with the waning moon, like his name. The successor thus inherited the mantle, and all seemed well. The successor wore the mantle made by his master, and ruled well like his master, following his master in word and deed, even taking on the name of Hong Yuan, courtesy name Yuexia. At the end he too, added stitches to Wufeng, and left it as thee mantle of inheritance.”

“The years passed, the sun and moon wove like a shuttle, and _all who inherited leadership of the JieJue Sect took the name of Hong Yuexia_.”

“B- B- But that would... reduce them to nothing!” Wei Wuxian sputtered. “Not only does it open them to possession, it would- leave them as nothing more than... walking corpses... people who only existed on the material level.”

“The ancient ceremonies to the ancestors had the role of the personator, the _shi_ (尸),” Baoshan-Sanren continued. “These grand family reunions had the ancestral spirits enter the bodies of the personator, who would eat and drink and convey messages from the spirit. Thus in the same way, the mantle of the Moon Elder passed from Master to Master of the JieJue Sect, sucking their blood and life and passing on their knowledge and arts to the next person.”

“You have to remember, the original Hong Yuexia was a tailor by birth. Thread, cloth, the textile arts, the meanings and symbols behind clothings... he knew them all. Wufeng was indeed a wedding dress — a wedding dress made with love, yet twisting its wearer beyond recognition.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian fell silent.

“The true Hong Yuexia was the same generation as my master, a noble and idealistic existence,” Baoshan-Sanren sighed. “The _cenotaph_ that he left behind to provide for his disciples had benevolent intentions at first, but in order to fulfil its mandate to learn, survive and pass knowledge on, its wearers became interchangeable parts. Infighting and wresting of control within the sect made it such that to keep the peace, the will of Hong Yuexia would subvert the wearer’s will, so the body only became the puppet of its clothes.”

“B- B- But... so the Hong Yuexia we were fighting all along was only a _shadow_?” Wei Wuxian put his face in his hands.

“Hong (红), for the old word for ‘women’s work’, meaning textile arts, and Yuexia (月下), for the illusion of moonlight,” Baoshan-Sanren revealed. “The Hong Yuexia who escaped the confines here and was sacrificed to the princess – that was the work of the Five Disasters. They always try to at least get the constructed mind of Hong Yuexia out, into a person of influence... it was a woman this time?”

“The Princess Shuiyue of the Kingdom of Ling,” Wei Wuxian gloomily confessed. “Grand Marshal of Ling.”

“The Chixiao sword, the war, taking down the Wen sect, forcing the cultivation sects to move...” Baoshan-Sanren sighed.

She pondered. “Has any clans been killed by her?”

“Does the Qishan Wen Sect count?” Wei Wuxian responded. “Grandmaster... I have a question to ask.”

“Please speak.”

“As far as I gather, the real Hong Yuexia is...”

“Somewhere in seclusion.”

“So, the current Hong Yuexia possessing the princess is...”

“The personality that was sewn into Wufeng, and passed and warped and twisted through generations of Masters of the JieJue Sect before we imprisoned it here.” Baoshan-Sanren looked down. “That personality still has Hong Yuexia’s ideals, but it is in collaboration with Wufeng. The participation of Hong Yuexia the identity, in the project to create a kingdom of cultivators, is part of those ideals, but in a practical sense it would also create a pool of successor candidates.”

“It would be a signature treasure for any cultivation clan,” Wei Wuxian puzzled.

Baoshan-Sanren gave a laugh. “You wanted to ask why didn’t any of the new cultivation sects take Wufeng?”

Wei Wuxian nodded.

“The wearer will gain godlike power and knowledge, but you will lose all sense of self and wear the robes of your office upon your body, slaved to become an interchangeable part,” Baoshan-Sanren frowned. “Like an emperor. Once the yellow robe is added to the person3, there is no turning back. Even for power, who would wish to lose their self?”

Wei Wuxian frowned.

“Furthermore, the inheritance of the mantle, and Wufeng, is not governed by the law of bloodlines,” Baoshan-Sanren continued. “The unworthy who don Wufeng will only have their blood drained to feed its power. Those who can inherit the mantle, are typically those who have already or will certainly make their mark on all of cultivation — be it invent a new method, or a new organisation, or achieve a great feat.”

She paused, taking a breath, “there used to be an array, which can cast the technique ‘Stars Surrounding the Moon’.”

“T- that one!” Wei Wuxian nodded.

“I was watching the skies months ago, and saw a _second_ technique,” Baoshan-Sanren continued. “That technique is called ‘Stars Surrounding Polaris’. Those who can successfully cast ‘Stars Surrounding Polaris’ are almost always suitable candidates to inherit the mantle of Hong Yuexia.”

Baoshan-Sanren paused.

“I am afraid,” she delicately commented, “that most of the actions used to drag the war out is meant to hunt out the one who shall inherit the mantle.”

* * *

**1 ZH:  天衣无缝 – Chinese idiom which describes something as perfect.**

**2 Meng Jiao’s Song of the Travelling Son, translation from [here](http://www.kekenet.com/read/201105/135264.shtml).**

**3 ZH:  黄袍加身 – fig. To take the crown**


	18. Open-Work Silk

Nanyang County Magistracy.

Wei Ying stood behind Lan Zhan, the two of them having somehow had the same day off. Although the county magistrates tended not to call upon cultivators, this time they were not expert witnesses or requested for a case – they were in the audience.

The ghost plaintiff was doing enough complaining for them.

“See, sir, that bastard and his hussy not only disfigured me, they also destroyed my corpse!”

“En... we recovered the skull,” the county magistrate nodded behind his desk. Out of the entire retinue of officials apparently on an inspection tour, this man had been the only one crazy enough to accept a ghost as plaintiff. He then banged the gavel. “Gan Muren, found guilty of murder and grievous injury of one formerly Nangong Jinghua, case to be referred to the provincial capital authorities awaiting capital punishment. Court dismissed!”

Satisfied, the ghost of Nangong Jinghua sneered towards a pale Gan Muren and floated – literally – out of the hall, shooting glares towards the parting crowd.

“Now if every ghost could lodge their own complaint,” Wei Ying sighed.

“Next case,” the magistrate was now calling from his desk. “Hurry up, I got to rush to Yueyang to prosecute a mass of cases from the same clan.”

The guards carried in another floating ghost, this one drawing Wei Ying’s attention by the virtue of holding his head in his hands. “Lan Zhan, that’s the ghost we were handling by the river!”

“En.”

“And here I thought non-cultivators couldn’t handle ghosts,” Wei Ying commented as the magistrate read out the list of charges against the defending ghost.

“So... you were on death row?”

“Yes sir.”

“What happened to...”

“Er, replying to Your Honour, I was a great bandit in life and the executioner they gave me was a new guy.”

“You should have bribed them to assign a veteran to you,” the judge nodded. “Next time.”

“WHAT ‘NEXT TIME’!”

* * *

“To be honest I don’t blame that ghost,” Wei Ying was still clutching his stomach as they walked out of the magistracy later. “The judge must be a rather unique figure to take cases on ghosts.”

“The royal court of Ling is behind this,” Lan Zhan spoke in a low voice as they walked down the street. “Recruiting rogue cultivators, giving amnesty to the remnants of the Qishan Wen Sect, prosecuting cases between humans and ghosts, settling hauntings – Father said that they are competing with the cultivation world. To finish what the Qishan Wen Sect started.”

“The cultivational sects use the arts of cultivation to kill demons, and usually do not accept money in return,” Wei Wuxian added. “Because of this, all cultivators share a similar independence and status from the rules of the common world. However, it also creates... what did Uncle Jiang say? Can’t recall, don’t really care, but it sounded important.”

“The  _Analects_ claims that ‘the Master did not speak of strange events, violence, riots and supernatural things’, and that was the functioning tradition between the court and the Jianghu,” Lan Zhan agreed. “The Qishan Wen Sect ruined that balance when they chose to siege a city.”

“Wen Ruohan must be kicking himself now. He went to siege their capital, and the court beat him and seized the Nightless City. Now we’re in a deadlock and waiting in Nanyang,” Wei Ying rolled his eyes heavenwards. “Lotus Pier too-” he stopped.

“...we will find a way, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan murmured. Lotus Pier was currently hanging in Jiang Fengmian’s commander tent as a silent reminder to locate the person who put the Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s home in the painting.

“Oh? Lan- Old Mister Lan finally found the method?”

“Ground Circle Prison, is what the technique is called,” Lan Zhan nodded. “It was invented by a pioneer of cultivation, Su Chenglong, titled as YüFu-Jun. He was an artist whose skill made his paintings come to life, and from his studies into cultivation he began to study the boundary between the real and not-real, going so far as to be able to insert anything into a painting and take anything out of a painting. A painted donkey can become real, a real person can suddenly become a figure washed in inks on paper.”

“Hmm...” the young Wei Ying hummed. “Sounds pretty evil.”

“The technique fell into the annals of history because it was too cruel.” Lan Zhan added. “If he was commissioned to paint someone he did not like, he would insert the person in the painting and then deliberately infuriate the commissioner to burn the painting with its subject within. Since most of his clients were looking for a marriage proposal portrait...”

Wei Ying winced. “Ouch. Why would anyone do that?”

“His reasons are not recorded, and the technique fell into the annals of history,” Lan Zhan faithfully replied.

“It’s still best to ask your Lan sect about such matters,” Wei Ying sighed in satisfaction as they passed a stall.

The street-side stall was festooned with decorative knots, made in thick woven threads of many colours, and beside it an old man in dark red leant on his walking-staff, which was equally festooned with knots, as he sat watching the street. The crane-hair seemed in contrast to a kindly face with a sort of ageless elegance rarely seen in men. Yet, the walking-staff strangely had a banner hanging from it:

  __  
The furthest distance in the world  
Is not between life and death  
But when I stand in front of you  
Yet you do not know that I love you  
 

Young Lan Zhan’s breath hitched.

“A lover’s knot for this young gentleman?” the old man murmured.

“Hey! Lan Zhan! This uncle is offering you one!” Wei Ying laughed, turning to the old man. “Uncle, why don’t you offer me one?”

The old man gave him a considering look. “Young man, there is a difference between a lover and a beloved. You shall marry into another family.”

Wei Ying: “...?”

Behind him, Lan Zhan had stiffened.

“I have learnt a bit of physiognomy and fortune-telling. Other things I may not know, but on the peach blossom luck1 I have yet to go wrong,” the old man smirked.

“Oh?” Wei Ying mused. “So, what kind of romance lies in my future? Which assertive miss would I marry?”

The old man merely laughed, pointing at the poem hanging from his banner. “Whoever it is, it shall be a beautiful person.”

“Then who shall he marry?” Wei Ying dragged Lan Zhan by the hand over. “Look at him, uncle, he’s so handsome, but he goes around with a frown all day and acts so cold and icy. Who would marry him?”

The old man smiled tighter at Lan Zhan. “This young master... whenever you meet that person, you keep brushing past, don’t you?”

“...”

“But, it is a chaotic world of ruin now,” the old man reasoned. “If you keep brushing past, one day the two shall never meet again.”

Lan Zhan’s shoulders squared.

“Do you want to buy a lover’s knot?” the old man offered, unhooking an endless knot made in red silk from which a round jade disc hung from. “Qixi is already past, but the knots’ meaning does not change. To tie the knot is a wish.”

The smile deepened. “Love has no boundaries. Perhaps you just need a thread to follow along.”

Lan Zhan inclined his head. “Elder.”

“That’s so unfair, Lan Zhan, look at me,” Wei Ying whined. His arms were also laden with purchases, including a feathery hairpin he had bought for Jiang Yanli, but the decorated knot the old man sold to him hung from his belt.

“Watch the road!” Lan Zhan pulled Wei Ying back as a sword landed where Wei Ying would have stumbled, and a panicked Lan Xichen hopped off.

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen gasped. “Hurry, we need reinforcements, we were ambushed! Our father is in danger!”

* * *

Meng Yao stumbled. He rolled, and came up covered in dirt. It was much better than the cultivator behind him, who ended up with one long cut before the man with the bladeless sword Chengying was hit by a flying rock.

“QingHeng-Jun, we’ve evacuated the last team to five _li_ away!”

Slinging a stone into the loop made with a forehead ribbon, QingHeng-Jun barely looked back as he raised his arm and lobbed the stone at the man’s face. “Keep going.”

“QingHeng-Jun should step back-”

“Chengying has unlimited range, but because of its structure it is not suited to blocking,” QingHeng-Jun continued. “If I leave, no one else will be able to attack him as a distraction, and then he will kill us all.”

“Your subordinate is willing-”

“-but my subordinate doesn’t have my arm strength.”

Meng Yao forbore to comment on the Lan clan arm strength, passed down the line for generations. He was too shocked by the fact that a cultivator of the Lan Sect, and the current Sect Chief at that, would stoop so low as to use his _forehead ribbon_ as a weapon. Tying knots to secure a cradle, mangling the ribbon beyond repair, bloodying what he knew to be a promise item...

The floating man had already stopped swinging his sword, choosing instead to focus on QingHeng-Jun. “You, are very practical for one surnamed Lan,” he said. “This penniless priest Wu Shuijing has finally seen something worth it.”

“Gaoxuan-Zhenren, Wu Shuijing...” QingHeng-Jun slowly said, the hand on his sword tightening. “Forgive our trespasses, we were unaware that White Rabbit Lake was your territory...”

“This lake is claimed under the banner of Ling, and Her Highness the Princess Shuiyue forbids encroachment,” Wu Shuijing’s lip curled.

“...I see. How fortunate that I already foresaw it.”

“Precisely,” Wu Shuijing’s brisk reply belied the ripples over the lake. “One Sect Chief of the Lanling Jin Sect is down. Perhaps, the Gusu Lan Sect should follow.”

A squadron of men in cultivator uniforms assembled behind Wu Shuijing. Each one of them floated on their swords, and bore the symbol of a scything axe and bow on their lapels, clearly a specially outfitted squadron.

“Kill.”

QingHeng-Jun struck with the ruined forehead ribbon, the fine embroidered silk taut under the influence of Chord Assassination to strike through one cultivator’s throat. Next was a somersaulting kick, and red powder drifted as QingHeng-Jun finally drew the sword at his hip.

Wu Shuijing’s lips parted. “Back! That’s not Shouxin!”

With a flick of the wrist, that sword glowed a piercing crimson, before the red powdery flakes all around QingHeng-Jun exploded, setting all the cultivators on fire.

“As expected, you even remember the name of a sword I haven’t held for over ten years...” The glittering red powder danced like fireflies, their crimson glare a highly visible sight under the high noon sun overhead. “Since you’re so knowledgable, there’s no need to introduce _this_ sword of the late wife.”

“...” Wu Shuijing raised his sword. “Wen Ruohan owns Sanzuwu... the only swords produced by the Qishan Wen Sect capable of channelling fire is Yinghuo. But... you could not have predicted that I would bring Chengying, however Yinghuo is perfect so suppressing an enemy as rear-guard.”

He switched to a two-handed grip. “Looks like you have no intention of leaving alive, QingHeng-Jun.”

He was there, and then somehow in a step he had already reached before QingHeng-Jun and brought his sword down. QingHeng-Jun leapt back, red flecks dancing in his wake. Wu Shuijing backed away as the red flecks exploded into miniature fireballs which consumed the air before what looked like a blade cut through it, only to reveal QingHeng-Jun on the other side.

Discarding the burning white outer robe with one hand, QingHeng-Jun’s arm swung down with the famed arm strength of the Lan clan. He did not look back even as an arm, sword and all, toppled into the sand.

Wu Shuijing toppled into the waters of the White Rabbit Lake, and did not surface.

“...” QingHeng-Jun exhaled. “I must go to Qishan.”

“Q- QingHeng-Jun!” Meng Yao ran over once it was clear that combat was over. “T- The enemy...”

“He ran.” QingHeng-Jun paused. “How many... left?”

“H- Half... less than half...” Meng Yao swallowed. “We were routed, QingHeng-Jun... reinforcements are coming from Nanyang now. We need to regroup and then send another strike force-”

“No,” QingHeng-Jun cut in. “They will leave...”

“Does it matter then?” Meng Yao replied. “If we destroy the archives, they already have enough experts to assemble an army of cultivators in a year’s time. The ambushers... if they can ambush us, they can also move the archives. They will be expecting us, QingHeng-Jun!”

“...” his shoulders relaxed. “Thank... you.”

So saying, he sheathed his sword. “Take our men, go to Nanyang. I must... go to Qishan...”

“QingHeng-Jun, please-!” Meng Yao froze as he looked down to the burning outer robe that had been used against the flames. They were streaked with so much blood...

Meng Yao was distracted by a thud.

“QingHeng-Jun!!!” Meng Yao rushed to the fallen figure.

His arm stretched out, and there was a feverish gleam in his cool eyes as he stared, almost lost.

“For life and death, to you I pledged... to hold your hand, and grow old with you...”2

The hand began to dig into the sand, dragging a body with it.

“I promise... to bring you home... back to the Cloud Recesses...”

* * *

**1 桃花运 – romantic luck**

**2 ZH:  死生契阔，与子成说。执子之手，与子偕老。\-- from the Shijing, Odes of Bei.**


	19. Spider’s Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm busy on Monday, so have an early chapter!

“Let’s go back to the fact that Hong Yuexia intends to kill us all?” Wei Wuxian ventured.

Baoshan-Sanren snorted. “Try again, young man. We can all die, and it would mean nothing to him. He created Wufeng, he stitched in part of his consciousness, in order to pass it on.”

“...he wants a successor,” Lan Wangji said. “That is, he wants someone to reach apotheosis.”

“Mmm...” Baoshan-Sanren mused. “However, heroes only come in troubled times. If that were so, when Hong Yuexia escaped Wen You’s seal she should have held back and waited for the Qishan Wen Sect to continue. Yet, she personally ended Wen Ruohan. Try again, keeping in mind that a supplementary goal is _unification_.”

“...” Wei Wuxian sighed. “...eternity. He said it before, Elder. ‘In this day and age, I don’t even think that anyone knows the reason why they took the path towards the Dao in the first place’. He wanted to find something which would last.”

“Eternity...” Baoshan-Sanren nodded. “So he still sought to find another eternity, huh?”

“So he wanted a successor to carry his tradition, and a country to continue his legacy into history, and to last forever... but nothing in the mortal world lasts forever,” Wei Wuxian reasoned. “At least, not on the foundations that the Five Disasters want. I don’t even... find them that offensive.”

“They haven’t killed any of your precious people yet,” Baoshan-Sanren replied. “Just wait. They have gotten to the point where there is no turning back, and it can only get worse from there. With that in mind, I have a plan.”

“Oh?”

“Surrender.” She smiled. “Young Master Lan,” she turned to Lan Wangji, “I believe your father should understand what I spoke of. He has too much intelligence.”

* * *

“Young Master Jin?”

Jin Zixuan nearly jumped in his seat.

“Please have some soup,” Jiang Yanli put a bowl before him. The smell told him that it was the lotus root pork rib soup, the speciality of Yunmeng and its environs. “It is inconvenient to have vegetarian meals in the middle of a war, but you must keep up your strength.”

“M- Many thanks, Miss Jiang.” Jin Zixuan swallowed. “You’ve... been much better than I deserve.”

“Not at all. The late Sect Chief Jin would want you to remain strong.” Jiang Yanli paused. “It is one thing to see my parents and brother leave, not knowing if they would return.”

“I stepped onto the battlefield knowing that I would die, but...” Jin Zixuan took the bowl in hand and sipped. “ ‘Meal and broth are ready in an instant, but I know not whom to serve. As I step out and look east, falling tears soak my clothes’1.”

“That would be inappropriate,” Jiang Yanli observed. “Young Master Jin still has Madam Jin and the Lanling Jin Sect behind you. ‘A thread in a mother's loving hand,  
makes up the clothes for her travelling son’.”

“...Miss Jiang is quite right,” Jin Zixuan admitted. “I have been distracted...”

“There is more soup if your require, Young Master Jin. Do take care,” Jiang Yanli nodded and left, not looking back at Jin Zixuan’s distant look.

* * *

It was with a tension in the air that the Nanyang camp received the routed contingent of the Jin and Lan sects. The Lanling Jin retinue looked grave, carrying their late Sect Chief on a stretcher. The Gusu Lan retinue looked worse, despite their survivors outnumbering the Lanling Jin Sect’s people — their saviour and Sect Chief was critically injured, and upon landing had been rushed to the infirmary tent with a messenger sent with an emergency summons for Wen Qing.

“Clavicle and ribs hit, veins nearly nicked – and third-degree burns,” the medic on site shook his head. “Young Sect Chief Lan... we will do out best, but please prepare for the worst.”

“...many thanks,” Lan Xichen sat by the bedside, watching as Meng Yao helped hold his father down and the military physician applied a topical anaesthetic. “Ah-Yao... thank you for taking him back.”

“QingHeng-Jun would want to live, ZeWu-Jun,” Meng Yao gave a stiff nod back as the physician bowed and took his leave. “...Sect Chief? You’re awake.”

“...Xichen, help me sit up.”

Lan Xichen hurried to comply. QingHeng-Jun swallowed, teeth clenched as the muscles under the bandages over his chest and collarbones stretched taut.

“Father...”

“Report.”

“We... we were routed. The two hundred cultivators with the Lanling Jin Sect have been decimated, reporting... one hundred and eighty casualties, perhaps more. As for our Lan Sect’s retinue, out of the reinforcements of three hundred following us, barely one half of them escaped.” Meng Yao paused. “The people who attacked our rear while QingHeng-Jun engaged the man carrying the Chengying sword... by a squad of cultivators in black, no banners.”

“Sir!” The infirmary tent flapped open, and a Lan cultivator bowed. “Sect Chiefs Jiang and Nie, as well as Madam Yu and Sect Chief Qin... have returned from Luoyi under pursuit, requesting shelter.”

“Pursuit?”

“A- A cultivator found Sect Chief Nie, presenting a gift claimed to be from the Princess Shuiyue...” the Lan cultivator frowned. “It was a painting of the Unclean Realm... with Second Young Master Nie, covered up in white paint. Sect Chief Nie flew into a rage and tossed the painting into the fire before drawing his sabre. Then... the prefectural authorities arrived...”

QingHeng-Jun sighed. “Does Young Sect Chief Jiang know of this?”

“Of course, but... Sect Chief Jiang requested that, as the Director-General of the combined alliance, your subordinate should report to Chief.”

“...” QingHeng-Jun blinked. “When did I become the Director-General? Isn’t Sect Chief Jiang still around? Isn’t Sect Chief _Nie_ still around?!”

“With Sect Chief Jin dead, and Young Master Jin... considering Chief’s reputation and intelligence, both chiefs deferred. But, Sect Chief Nie still holds the Hejian front troops and other troops...”

“It’s fine, I was only asking about the sudden appointment.” QingHeng-Jun sighed.

“...Xichen, map. Ah-Yao, help me grind some ink.”

Both young cultivators did as asked, watching as QingHeng-Jun sketched out a watercolour map of the land before marking Luoyi, Nanyang, and the course of the Long and Yellow Rivers. “QingHeng-Jun has a prodigious memory...” Meng Yao murmured.

“Father knows the contents of the  _Classic of Mountains and Seas_ cover to cover,” Lan Xichen explained, pride evident in his voice.

“They...” QingHeng-Jun’s lips tightened so hard that all colour had fled from them. “Our side had initially split into two sides – one to assassinate Wen Ruohan in prison, and the other onwards to Qishan to destroy the archives and prevent them from building troops. But...”

His expression changed. “Sect Chief Nie... is already here?”

“Yes.” The messenger replied.

QingHeng-Jun leant back. “Alright. Thank you. You may go.”

The messenger bowed and left.

“Ah-Yao.”

“Your subordinate is here.” Meng Yao offered up the grindstone with the freshly-prepared ink.

“Put that aside, I need you...” QingHeng-Jun swallowed. “I need you to... negotiate...”

“The Kingdom of Ling has just taken down the Qishan Wen Sect for its hubris,” Meng Yao spoke aloud. “Furthermore, since the royal court have already made one move against the cultivation world, why not continue? First, they had no resources to continue. Second, they had no reason to send troops. Third, even if they did, all they did was introduce what was senseless warfare into the Central Plains.”

“The Qishan archives change all that. By taking this knowledge, and then sharing it, they gain resources to wage war against the cultivation world. Their impetus to wage war is not only for the land of fortified farms which are owned by the cultivation sects, but also to remove the ideological and social threat of cultivators to the social order promulgated by the royal court.”

“Now all they need to do is set a collaboration charge of treason against the Yunmeng Jiang Sect and the Qinghe Nie Sect, and they would have reason to send troops to Nanyang, quelling the various factions at the royal court further,” QingHeng-Jun gave a grim nod. “The Princess Shuiyue will be able to wield Chixiao on the battlefield. Even if right now we sent an assassin to Luoyi and managed to kill her, the royal court would continue its policy regardless.”

He directed a look towards a blank-faced Lan Xichen, and sighed. “Ah-Yao...”

“I don’t understand...” Lan Xichen gave a small complaint.

“ZeWu-Jun, a royal court is not like a sect and its relations with foreign disciples and other subjects of the clan,” Meng Yao shook his head. “For one, even the lowest cultivator enjoys privileges such as smoother migration permissions, and ownership of arms. However, these privileges are contingent on the fact that cultivators remain legal subjects of the royal court, yes?”

Lan Xichen nodded.

“A cultivator is a very strange creature,” Meng Yao observed. “The Master says not to strange events, violence, riots and supernatural things, yet all cultivator gentlemen must and do discuss them. It is a contradicting position which alienates them enough from common society, or places them as a target of admiration.”

“However, the collective properties of sects like the great cultivational sects create a force rich enough to fight a country, on top of having special abilities,” Meng Yao continued. “Any faction who promotes war must first consider the losses incurred of waging a civil war, as well as the potential gains. For a very long time, nobody believed that an army of mortal men with bodies of flesh and common souls could do it, which was why the Qishan Wen Sect managed to get away with so much tyranny – because it was mainly directed at fellow cultivation sects, and not the common citizenry.”

“But... they besieged Luoyi,” Lan Xichen pointed out. “And then they died.”

“The Qishan Wen Sect crossed the royal court’s line when they besieged the Ling capital,” Meng Yao agreed. “By successfully sacking Nightless City, the Kingdom of Ling has already proven; it is possible for the common man to win against cultivators. By removing the strongest cultivation sect, the next step is to ensure that this event cannot repeat itself.”

“By recruiting cultivators, or by removing them altogether,” Lan Xichen nodded.

“The Princess Shuiyue would doubtlessly capitalise on this chance to accrue military powers, more so than she already has. To do so, there must be a war against cultivators, which would then allow her to commandeer taxes and create policies to set up a professional armed force,” Meng Yao nodded. “The recent spate of prefectural inspections and the settlement of cases involving the supernatural or cultivation world, is meant to drag the cultivation world into the mortal world – to implement the rule of the Ling legal code in the cultivation world, and thus recruit the cultivation world.”

“So... what is the other method?” asked Lan Xichen.

“The rule of military force,” Meng Yao bluntly stated. “There will most likely be a grand announcement to the world that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect and the Qinghe Nie Sect have committed treason against the state. This would not only invite reprisals without consequence from their enemies due to outlawing them, but also gives sufficient reason to send troops as well as increase the imperial prestige. This is imperial power, which at its strongest cannot be defied, and can sway the hearts and minds of the people.”

Lan Xichen’s lips shook.

“There is a method,” QingHeng-Jun began when another messenger came in.

“Chief, Master... Master Yuandao requests an audience.”

“Show him in.”

The black-clothed man gave a winning smile, followed behind by a white-robed person too tall and flat-chested to be female, whose upper body was covered by a gauze-veiled hat on his head. “Ah, QingHeng-Jun, you’re injured! My Jianzhi was simply worried when he heard about the ambush at White Rabbit Lake!”

“We survived,” QingHeng-Jun lightly said. “Did you find what you were looking for, _Yuandao_?” He spoke the name with great emphasis.

“We nearly got trapped in a painting,” the man stated. “Fortunately, one of the, er, people was a spy for Baoshan-Sanren, who rescued us at the cost of her life to send us to Baoshan-Sanren. This incident has also alarmed the elder, who has given us some information, as well as suggested a method.”

“Was it surrender?” QingHeng-Jun asked, drawing gasps of surprise.

The grin deepened. “Now I see what the elder meant when she said that you have too much intelligence. Yes, she recommended to surrender.”

* * *

**1 This is from the ancient poem ‘[At Fifteen I Joined the Army on Expedition](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Translation:At_Fifteen_I_Joined_the_Army_on_Expedition)’.**


	20. Following the Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With permission from [shinshin_kido](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinshin_kido/pseuds/shinshin_kido), this chapter welcomes our guest-star, the OC Li Shao from [Spring Night Love Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17393621/chapters/40937888)! - LLS

“Has Father-in-law gone?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Wei Wuxian fell onto the only couch in the tent, groaning. “Lan Zhan...”

“I’m here,” Lan Wangji held his hand, the slow thrum of spiritual energy passing from him into Wei Wuxian. “The body...”

“We knew it would happen,” Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth. “At least I didn’t just stop existing.”

It had been on leaving the mountain cave that Wei Wuxian had first collapsed. Half-dragging half-carrying him back in, Lan Wangji’s terror was a thing to behold that no one actually got a good look at. All the disciples under Baoshan-Sanren’s seat were kept busy grabbing herbs, boiling water, and writing out talisman upon variation of talisman.

Checking the dice in her hand as it kept throwing out single pips, the ancient cultivator frowned heavily. “Your body is... rejecting your soul?”

Wei Wuxian paled. “The sacrificial ritual.”

“Sacrifice?” Baoshan-Sanren thought faster than he, leaping to a conclusion immediately: “This isn’t your body?”

“No...” Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth as a fiery feeling crawled through his veins, and scars began to slice open on his arms.

“...right. You went through the dragon’s veins... and went back in time...” Baoshan-Sanren sat contemplating. “See, as you are a product of a future which has not happened, the only thing I can think of is that Hong Yuexia found a way to cut your world line.”

“Line... of fate?” Lan Wangji sat straighter.

“Not so easily.” Baoshan-Sanren paused, and then continued: “Look, a human would go through the course of life birth, ageing, sickness and death, yes? These major events, as well as the collection of minor events through time and space, form what is called a world line — the collective events which happen over space and time.”

She gave him a considering look. “You have very good cultivation – enough that your body maintains its existence despite events rewriting themselves around you.”

“In order for a sacrifice to be successful, first you need the summon – that is, the one being sacrificed must be dead,” she continued. “The second thing you need is the caller – the one who sacrifices their body. Since the young one is a sacrifice that has yet to happen, Hong Yuexia must have done something to absolutely prevent the sacrifice from happening, and thus the possibility of the sacrifice to birth... er, create our young man is impossible.”

“We... QingHeng-Jun...”

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji started.

“I think you should bring him back first, Young Master Lan. I will give you a painting, to which you can set up a gateway from my mountain.” Baoshan-Sanren thinned her lips.

“I...” Lan Wangji’s shoulders hunched. “...is there a way?”

“I need to find the other contacts I have in the Crow Terrace,” Baoshan-Sanren’s expression was solemn. “You... need to put in somewhere with adequate medical care.”

* * *

Later, as Wei Wuxian clung onto Lan Wangji as the fated pair flew through the skies towards Nanyang, he whispered to the other: “I’m still here, Lan Zhan. Isn’t the Elder finding a way?”

“I don’t understand,” Lan Wangji breathed. “Weren’t we all right?”

“Actually...” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Since Jin Guangshan died, it’s not even guaranteed that he’d father Mo Xuanyu, right? And, let’s count all the changes that we did. We saved Jiang Cheng’s parents, your father, a lot of people... I didn’t cut out my golden core to give it to Jiang Cheng, Wen Ning is still alive... the me who became the Yiling Patriarch and died from being torn apart by a hundred ghosts would disappear.”

“But... I am still here, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replied. “The me with the thirty-more blows of the discipline whip on my back is still here. How am I to believe?”

* * *

It was fortunate that Lan Qiren had already thought of calling Wen Qing to Nanyang when he got wind of QingHeng-Jun’s injuries. Wei Wuxian collapsing in the alliance camp was also quickly shifted to her care.

“Possessed a dead body?” Wen Qing leapt to conclusions, which the veiled Lan Wangji did not correct. “I’ll open a prescription for soul-soothing herbs, but this kind of thing... there really isn’t any pre-existing knowledge for it.”

“Many thanks, Miss Wen.”

Once Wen Qing had left the infirmary, Lan Wangji unfurled the painting that Baoshan-Sanren had given him, and hung it up on one tent side. The painting fluttered, a bamboo forest running down a mountain slope, and a dot in the distance. The dot grew larger and larger, as he blinked and stared, until as he looked away and then back Baoshan-Sanren was already dragging her left foot out of the painting, and safely on the ground.

Baoshan-Sanren turned around, revealing one half of her hair-bun which had been singed in fire. The other half was also choppy, as if someone had taken a blade far too large to it. She tossed a scroll folded in the style of sutra pamphlets to Lan Wangji, scowling: “That’s the last time I run out the library fines...”

“Many thanks.” Lan Wangji tried to open the folded paper, only to frown as the hard covers seemed to stick together, without even the aid of stitched binding or a spine. “This is...”

The cover showed a lone male cultivator, made apparent by his white robes and distinctive hairstyle, standing with back towards the viewer. The cultivator in the picture stood by a pond surrounded with wild-flowers, and overhead the clouds hung like a palpable thing.

By this magnificent illustration, words snaked in a corner—

《Haze in All Directions》— _Taoyuanzi_

Under it, someone had painstakingly printed words in the old script:

   
_We are of one mind yet live apart,_  
 _and in the end I age wounded by grief._ 1  
 

“...”

Lan Wangji swallowed upon seeing the words. “These words... “Crossing the River to Pick Lotuses”, from the _Nineteen Old Poems_. ‘I pick it and desire to give it to someone, but the one whom I think of’... ‘is far away’.” 2

“A long time ago, when he descended into the mortal dust, Lan An once met someone,” Baoshan-Sanren did not move. “A monk just returned to secular life with a zither on his back, met a painter carrying brush and paper by a pond. Thus was the ill-fated friendship born between Lan An and Li Shao, Taoist name Taoyuanzi.”

“...this junior has heard it mentioned.” Lan Wangji carefully answered. “The founder and Taoyuanzi were companions on the way, but on the way Taoyuanzi turned to forbidden techniques to keep up, attacked Lan An, and they became arch-enemies.”

“I wish,” Baoshan-Sanren complained. “Taoyuanzi was part of the White Robe Manor. Their sect founder Su Chenglong – yes, that Su Chenglong – had left behind many techniques of art, to confuse the real and the not-real. ‘Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true; real becomes not-real where the unreal is real’3. He’s good and all, but then he went to accidentally draw himself into a painting and a backlash came when a bald donkey who’d never sent a calling-card in his life dropped in, and severely injured Taoyuanzi. Taoyuanzi was sent to prison, and escaped by drawing a donkey in his cell, but then got stabbed in his escape. To save his life, Lan An had to use Taoyuanzi’s own research and stick him into his own book, but couldn’t figure out how to undo it.”

The tone in her recount contained no malice, or Lan Wangji would have had to be rather offended on his ancestor’s behalf.

“After Mrs Lan died, the bald donkey donated this book to the Crow Terrace, where it stayed in the Prisoner Gallery.” Baoshan-Sanren’s lips thinned. “The book protected itself. If we can figure out the conditions to open it... Taoyuanzi was not known for ‘blending cinnabar into jade’4 for no reason. If anyone can figure out how to fake a world line, it’s him.”

“How would Elder know?”

“Because... he did it before.” Baoshan-Sanren turned to leave with a flounce of her sleeves. “You ponder how to open the book.”

* * *

Lan Wangji sat beside Wei Wuxian’s cot, the book in hand. He sat there, pondering, even as Wen Qing came to check on her patients, Wen Ning went on his rounds, and baby Wen Yuan warbled by his ears. He stayed even as Madam Yu was rushed in, followed by Baoshan-Sanren clutching a hairpin of yellow feathers with a livid expression.

“Using the children to kill the parents, that Hong Yuexia is truly cutting off all paths to retreat...” Baoshan-Sanren sighed. “Young Master... Jianzhi?”

“Thick and dusty the lingering clouds, misty and drizzling the season’s rain; In all directions the haze unbroken, the level roads are blocked from access.”5 Lan Wangji sighed. “Haze in All Directions... quietly I retire to my eastern porch, I drink the spring wine all alone. My good friends are far, far away; with anxiety I watch and wait.”6

“Too bad,” said Baoshan-Sanren, “that the Cloud Recesses forbid alcohol. Why?”

Lan Wangji opened the tent flap, allowing a stream of sunlight in as he peered out. He then moved to the west, and opened the tent there, before letting the book fall from his hand.

One solid cover fell off, the rest of the book following in unfurling creases and folds before it rapidly expanded in size, folding screens of painted and written paper expanding to painted mountains and ponds and wild-flowers with words hovering overhead.

“Ah,” Baoshan-Sanren hummed as Lan Wangji strode back to carry Wei Wuxian in his arms, before they walked into the painted world together.

The hovering clouds cast a wash of blue over the scenery by the pond, and the waters rippled coolly in this scenery of eternal spring. Cold mountain mists brushed over from the distant lip of the horizon; an isolated grove nestled within a forest of mountain peach trees.

The man, presumably the subject of the book cover, was crouched over a painting easel where a canvas of white silk had been stretched over a wooden frame. Brushes and a palette of colours stood at attention in a holder, before he used a brush of rabbit-hair and then the solid colour became a thin line, which unfurled into a flowing cloud of blues and greens. Despite not seeing the painter’s face, the painting washed out upon a figure amidst the clouds, the only patched untouched by the paints to show the natural colour of the silk.

A rainbow of colour was flung over his shoulder, and Lan Wangji side-stepped it, glancing down at the clear liquid with furrowed brow, and then giving the painter whose back was to them a harder look.

Finally, the man put down his brush, and the silk seemed to thrum as a painted breeze passed, and the man’s head turned around to look over his shoulder.

The head of a wolf, was Lan Wangji’s first thought.

The man had deep-set, handsome looks, yet felt older as most senior cultivators tended to reach. His long frame was folded in on itself, but his eyes had the manic look of a freak who could endure long hours of stillness, then break out to work days and nights without pause like a devil.

Finally, the man got up, hurried over, and hugged Lan Wangji in a paint-covered embrace.

“Finally, after so many centuries...”

Lan Wangji: “......”

In his arms, Wei Wuxian’s frame shook.

“Well? You finally grew out your hair? No ones calling you a bald donkey anymore, right?”

Lan Wangji finally stepped back when the man made as if to kiss his sleeves. “Mister!”

Wei Wuxian’s frame was now shaking so hard he almost fell down.

“So sorry, I’m a bit overwhelmed, I forgot you still don’t like strangers touching you,” the man paused, and squinted. “Did you wear raised insoles? I remember you were shorter. But you’re still so handsome! Have a seat, have a seat!” he gestured to the ground.

Lan Wangji gave a helpless look down to Wei Wuxian in his arms, who was currently giggling. “...”

“Ah, I just finished a painting in this fine weather, how about I give it to you?” the man continued, indicating the painting.

Lan Wangji finally noticed, that the human figure in the painting did not have eyes drawn into it. “It’s... incomplete...”

The man’s smile slid off, his expression sinking so quickly it was faster than flipping a book, and he stretched to his full height. “By refusing my gift, you’ve offended me!” he growled.

Lan Wangji blinked, as the hovering clouds loomed closer, and the man tutted.

“Ever heard of the Four Sceneries of White Robe Manor?”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“I’m the one they called ‘Blending Cinnabar in Jade’,” the man complained, complete with gesticulations. It was to the point that he could already play a ghost in opera without costume or makeup.

“In those days, I held a cleaver in each hand, and chopped my ways from the Kunlun Mountains to the Qiantang River,” the man drawled, complete with gesticulations. “I chopped back and forth three days and three nights, blood flowed like a river and corpses piled like mountains. Yet I just kept chopping up and down, without even blinking once! My clothes was soaked a bloody red in that mess, and then I soaked it in gall, and it turned green without even blinking an eye! How on earth did you not hear about me?!”

Wei Wuxian finally fell down and rolled on the ground, wheezing in laughter. “Lan Zhan... your ancestor... really knows some... interesting people... hahahahaha, hahahaha!”

Lan Wangji had met people who had thick skin, and rarely did he know someone who completely didn’t want any face like Wei Wuxian. Yet this was the first time he had met the type of person who tore one half of his face and stuck it on the other side, so that one side had thick skin and the other side was completely shameless.

Finally, the man spoke:

“...I’ll say first, I don’t do funeral portraits.”

“Oi! I’m not dead!” Wei Wuxian hiccoughed.

“So why do the two of you look like his wife just died? All in sackcloth and ashes too.” The man tutted. “What a waste of good looks.”

“That’s the Lan Sect uniform! He’s Lan Wangji! Lan An’s descendant!” Wei Wuxian finally got to his feet, still giggling.

“Oh, I see. So, where is that Lan An?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh, I see.”

Li Shao reached out a hand, faster than should be possible, and grabbed Wei Wuxian’s throat.

“Wei Ying!”

“So,” Li Shao continued in the same pleasant voice, even as Wei Wuxian’s bones creaked threateningly, “You came to this world which I created for the two of us, for what reason? Could it be, his descendants decided to destroy me and win eternal fame and glory? If that’s the case, how about I crush your throat right here, and save your ancestor the shame of such descendants?”

 

* * *

**1 ZH: 同心而离居，忧伤以终老. [Here’s a sung version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29yyP_pNriM).**

**2 ZH: 采之欲遗谁，所思在远道。 – also an in-joke with the Chinese fandom.**

**3 ZH: 假作真时真亦假，无为有处有还无 – opening couplet of Dream of the Red Chamber.**

**4 ZH: 看朱成碧 – (to be dazzled until) take red for green.**

**5 ZH: 霭霭停云，蒙蒙时雨。八表同昏，平路伊阻。**

**6 ZH: 静寄东轩，春醪独抚。良朋悠邈，搔首延伫。**


	21. The Sound Outside the String

Wei Wuxian felt that he could kick himself in the head.

Of course this old cultivator could not be normal. No one normal could survive being trapped in a book for an unknown number of centuries alone and still be intact. The whole song and dance done by Li Shao had distracted him enough, and even when he had realised it, his throat was already clutched in those fingers honed from years and years of painting.

“So, where is Lan An?” Li Shao drawled as his grip tightened.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji had already drawn Bichen.

“Lan-” Wei Wuxian’s leg shot up, aiming to knee the one strangling him between the legs. Yet Li Shao had immediately exerted control, one forearm barred across Wei Wuxian’s throat.

“I just want some questions asked,” Li Shao drawled as Wei Wuxian clawed and struggled. “Try that again and I’ll hit somewhere painful!”

“Come on, bastard! Who’s afraid of who!” Wei Wuxian yelled.

 _PIAK_!

Wei Wuxian froze.

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened. In his hand, Bichen glowed brighter.

By the sidelines, Baoshan-Sanren slowly raised her hands, and buried her face in them.

“I don’t know these people...” she muttered. “I especially don’t recognised people as shameless as him...”

“Y- Y- You hit my ass!” Wei Wuxian screeched.

“You said yourself to do it,” Li Shao sounded innocent.

Still caught in the choke-hold, Wei Wuxian watched his cultivation partner pale, and then stared as his pretty face flushed with blood and an expression too terrible to behold.

“...it’s pretty perky.” Li Shao added.

Bichen shone with the sword-glare of one prepared to die.

“We came here to request help with faking a world line,” Baoshan-Sanren said at last, unable to watch them banter on. “Taoyuanzi, the one in your hands is on the brink of ceasing to exist.”

“That’s not right... if he does cease to exist, the rules of the world should explosively release the energy used in his creation back into the world.” Li Shao narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re...”

“...this penniless priestess Baoshan, does greet Sir Li.” Baoshan-Sanren seemed reluctant to even acknowledge him.

“Ah.” The lazy tone was back, complete with an edge. “Here I thought, how did they get in here? I may lack for talent, but I am certain that the world I painted into being is quite beyond what most cultivators after the fall of the five schools can manage.”

“...” Baoshan-Sanren slowly breathed out.

Li Shao shrugged, smirking back. “I don’t seem to have a reason to help or hinder you.”

Baoshan-Sanren said, “Hong Yuexia has returned.”

“...” Li Shao studied Baoshan-Sanren. “For one of the Way who has renounced the mortal world, you seem to care a lot about the mortal world.”

“...you and I know that this Hong Yuexia is not the true one,” Baoshan-Sanren replied. “If Hong Yuexia succeeds in conquering the world, my mountain would probably die with me. Before that happens, I will point her to _you_.”

“Come then,” Li Shao bared his teeth. “Unlike you, I kept on fairly good relations with the White Robe Manor before my... unfortunate accident.”

“Lan An mourned you,” Baoshan-Sanren rebutted. “Would you let his descendants die?”

Li Shao’s fingers slackened, and Wei Wuxian threw himself away and out. Lan Wangji rushed forward to pull Wei Wuxian behind him.

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji said: “I am here.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian wailed. “Hold me!”

Lan Wangji said: “I’m holding.”

“Hold me tighter!”

Lan Wangji’s grip tightened.

“Ack! My ribs!”

“......”

Both senior cultivators continued talking in an attempt not to keep looking.

“He really mourned you,” Baoshan-Sanren sighed. “Lan Mei was the one who patched him together afterwards, and she always said that he emulated parts of _you_ in their married life.”

Wei Wuxian thought back to Lan An, the silly Lan An, who did handstands out of happiness when told that one of his descendants had found a partner willing to live with the Cloud Recesses and all of its rules. It was a kind of madness, it seemed – even those of the Lan clan who married did not seem to escape that particular curse.

“His descendants, the only proof of his blood, are in danger from the Five Disasters,” Baoshan-Sanren stated. “Cultivation is no longer the heights it was from our time, and that is the way that mortal history decided.”

“...yet you need me to fake a world line,” Li Shao turned to contemplate Wei Wuxian’s back, tutting. “Forgive my directness, but there is no need for me to step in.”

Lan Wangji turned. “In that case, apologies to Senior.”

“...” Li Shao’s expression turned mutinous. “As a person, you’ve really gone overboard.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened.

“Just when you were looking for my help, you still came up to me so gently, and after I said no, you turned over and don’t recognise me anymore.” Li Shao complained. “You didn’t even bring a meeting present! I offered you a painting out of etiquette and you _rejected_ me! Not even a small painting–!”

Wei Wuxian: “......”

Wei Wuxian finally said after laughing for a while: “I suspect, the Silencing Spell was invented by Lan An, just to get some peace around this guy...”

“En,” Lan Wangji agreed.

“Don’t hum, that’s a friend of your sect founder,” Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue, climbing down with some reluctance from Lan Wangji’s body.

“This elder... we came to visit without bringing gifts, that is our fault, I apologise, truly.” Wei Wuxian saluted, and continued: “Yet we are rather pressed as well, facing Hong Yuexia and her allies, who call themselves the Five Disasters and are truly world-shaking disasters. She has possessed a mortal princess of the royal court, and felled the Qishan Wen Sect using the Chixiao sword. The great cultivational families are preparing to face her armies, and we shall not surrender, but I came through the dragon’s vein from a future which has been rendered impossible from this point forward, and thus... we are at the end of our tether, and thus the Grandmaster Baoshan-Sanren brought your book to help...”

“...I see,” Li Shao drawled after a long time. “A world line... how many years from now did you fall through?”

“Er... twenty...” Wei Wuxian stated.

“Ah...” Li Shao pulled out a brush. He then drew a stool out in mid-air, and then sat on the stool before he drew a table, the four treasures of the study, and three more chairs.

“Have a seat, and tell me your story,” Li Shao licked the tip of the brush in his hand, leaving a black smudge on his bottom lip as he smiled, showing one grey-stained incisor. “In the interests of faking a world line, do tell me everything.”

Wei Wuxian sat gingerly on the painted chair, blinking. “Ah...”

“...” Li Shao glared. “Hurry up.”

* * *

“Uh huh... uh huh...” Li Shao finally set down his pen, having chucked aside his brush after the bloodbath of Nightless City and taken a feather quill to scribble quickly. “Okay...”

Wei Wuxian stared as Li Shao then drew tea-ware and a plate of cakes.

“Want some?” Li Shao offered it to him.

“...I’ve heard of ‘drawing cakes to handle hunger’, but this is just ridiculous,” Wei Wuxian still took one, only for Lan Wangji to take it and bite down. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji handed it back to Wei Wuxian. “...safe.”

“Ah?” Wei Wuxian blinked, before he understood. “Lan Zhan! I’m so moved by your willingness to taste-test~ Mua~”

“If I wanted to poison you, I might as well draw a bottomless pit under your feet,” putting aside the manuscript of one Wei Wuxian’s possible future, Li Shao began to set out a palette and pigments of the colours – all stone colours – as well as a tub of glue. “Saves me from figuring out how to paint cyanide onto the cakes.”

“...” Wei Wuxian took a sip of the proffered cup of tea, his nose wrinkling. “...Biluochun?”

“Once upon a time, I came across a travelling musician with very short hair, clearly a monk who recently returned to the laity,” Li Shao spoke as he worked, laying out multiple brushes on a white cloth pad. “He was literally playing the _qin_ to a bull. So, I went up and struck up a conversation with him. He told me, the bull also appreciates music – it was a fairy.”

The couple listened carefully – it was the history of a founder, after all.

“I was impressed, by his care of the many things in the world, and for the equal treatment he gave them all.” Li Shao sighed. “So, I painted him a cup of tea, but I painted a Black Dragon tea instead. He drank the tea, and said he preferred the Biluochun of Dongting, and had left the mountain to drink it.”

Wei Wuxian let off a giggle.

“At that time...” Li Shao scanned. “Oi, look through these and see if I got them correct.”

Lan Wangji froze as the first sheets were passed to him. “Wei Ying...”

Wei Wuxian took over, and sucked in a long breath. If not for the fact that all the human figures within lacked eyes, he would have believed for a moment that Li Shao had been present to witness his dark history and record his future.

“W- Why?” Wei Wuxian asked at last. “Why do you have to paint my last twenty years?”

“A world line traces the past of an object through space and time,” Li Shao elaborated, head still hanging down as he painted frame after frame, his hands moving so fast they seemed blurred, as ghosts and warriors and the glares of sword which cut through the void dripped from his brushes onto the sized paper. “Your problem is that your space and time has been rendered impossible – that is, the event never happened. The working theory so far is that the Inscrutable Register which records the life and death of every being is calling you – well, this possible you – down back into the great earth.”

“Uh...”

“What I am doing, is sketching out your possible world line – therefore, your world line would exist, if only as the imagination of an artist,” Li Shao’s eyes glittered like stars, cinnabar and orpiment mixing with burnt sienna as a glassy-eyed corpse clothed in yellow lay by the ruins of a Nightless City beset with corpses and wronged spirits.

With a tiny brush, gold paint was applied to make out the motif of Sparks Amidst Snow, and then silver paint created a small silver bell, before an eyeless figure was complete, of a woman stabbed through the throat.

Wei Wuxian turned his eyes away from the upside-down figure of the dead Jiang Yanli. “So you avoid painting the eyes because it’s a vital finishing touch?”

“As it is said to ‘paint the dragon and dot its eyes’ to give it life, the same rule applies to my works,” Li Shao handed over the Nightless City draft, and then switched to depicting the first siege of the Burial Mounds. “Of course, your world line is entangled—”

“Ah???”

Li Shao looked up with a glare. “You have a cultivation partner. Don’t tell me your red threads of fate aren’t entwined? You can’t be partners in name only, I see there’s an...” he checked the manuscript. “...everyday.”

Lan Wangji’s ears turned red.

“W- W- Wait!” Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet. “You’re going to paint a spring picture of...”

“—two people, it can fix the world line with another world line.” Li Shao smirked.

“You’re a liar! You just want to paint pornography with us, right?!”

* * *

“Lan Zhan don’t look! We didn’t take off anything!” Wei Wuxian shook his head at Li Shao. “Do you have fiery golden eyes1, Senior?”

Lan Wangji put down the painting of their first ‘everyday’. “I...” he paused. “...would like a copy...”

“Lan Zhan, are you _possessed_?!”

“At least someone recognises the work of a master,” Li Shao lay slumped in his chair, a drawn block of ice put over his wrists. “The skills of my alma mater the White Robe Manor also includes dream communication, this Incense Burner looks like something promising... except, we just had an unexpected guest....”

“I was still thinking, what did I sense in the allied camp at Nanyang,” Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji leapt up once they heard a voice come from behind them.

“You...” Baoshan-Sanren’s eyes widened. “...a girl?”

“This princess is Xuan Yue, courtesy name Yuelan, titled as the Princess Shuiyue of Great Ling...” her eyes then glittered like jewels, as Hong Yuexia stood there in red robes, complete with a red shawl draped around her arms and back.

“...known to you as Hong Yuan, Hong Yuexia, titled as the JieJue Grandmaster. Common title, Moon Elder.”

“So it’s the traitor and Chenglong’s lost disciple,” Hong Yuexia tutted, smiling as every footstep clacked loudly. “Taoyuanzi, was it?”

“What a compliment that a god remembers my name,” Li Shao exhaled. “I believe my book was in the care of your Crow Terrace for a very long time.”

“Indeed, it was,” Hong Yuexia’s reply was languid.

“So, knowing that this is the den of a master of dimensions, you just walked in?” Baoshan-Sanren demanded, her back straightening.

“This fellow of the Way, you already know that White Robe Manor has the Painted Skin art,” Li Shao rolled his eyes openly at Baoshan-Sanren. “She simply sewed herself a bag of skin and made a sock-puppet to send in. You don’t even know the basic techniques of the JieJue Sect, how can you even hope to fight Hong Yuexia? Are you not only dumb, but also blind?”

Baoshan-Sanren: “......”

“As for Grandmaster Hong...” Li Shao sketched out a loaded hand crossbow complete with explosive talismans, and pulled it out of the paper. “This is a world meant for him and I, not for outsiders like _you_!”

He pulled the trigger.

The resultant fire and smoke spread out across the painted world as Li Shao tossed the table towards Hong Yuexia’s original position.

“Both young men, and Baoshan... get lost,” Li Shao unfurled a scroll from one sleeve, this time pulling out a lance with a firecracker attached to its pointed end as well as a brush as he started to paint in the air.

The smoke blew away as if physically cut through, and Hong Yuexia stepped out, none the worse for wear. The red shawl rippled, before it unfurled itself and then rolled into a tube, somehow reshaping itself into a tube with a handle and trigger to land in Hong Yuexia’s hand.

“You are not the only one with the necessary alchemical knowledge to make fire-weapons, Taoyuanzi,” she snarled, and pulled the trigger to unleash a bang.

* * *

**1 ZH:  火眼金睛 – discerning eyes**


	22. Feather Robe

When immortals fight, the common people suffer.

“This is the first time I’ve seen such efficient alchemy!!!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed as he ran behind Baoshan-Sanren and Lan Wangji. Explosions rent the painted earth and tore through descending painted lightning-bolts, scattering flecks of gluey pigment around. Parts of the forest over their heads caught fire as they fled the clearing of peach blossoms, their red and orange flames a direct contrast to the green foliage.

“Senior!” Lan Wangji ducked another passing projectile which whistled as it cracked a nearby tree in half. “Shouldn’t we-”

“The Hong Yuexia here in this world is only a doppelgänger,” Baoshan-Sanren side-stepped another exploding projectile as she spoke: “The real Hong Yuexia must be somewhere outside the Nanyang camp... if so, then she must have felt this dimension opening, and sent a clone to investigate. What we should worry about, is what would be happening in the real world since I stopped their trap.”

Wei Wuxian started, and were it not for Lan Wangji dragging him along half his head would have been taken off by another explosion. “ _A trap in the camp_?!”

The earth rumbled, and the world shook. As the clouds overhead trembled and flashed and curtains of ran fell, wall upon wall of earth rose from behind like rippling waves, to lift up all three of them completely within battlements and signal towers.

Li Shao descended from the skies, a brush in one hand, and a metallic hand-cannon which fired behind him before he threw it down, the metal melting into black ink that splashed out against the limestone. From this puddle Li Shao reached in and pulled, and the ink seemed to drag along, fanning out into cool black metal and three barrels in a dark-wood frame.

“Both of you, left and right, Baoshan take the front.” Li Shao snapped, striding forward as a flock of magpies arose behind their moving earth-ride and shot forth in pursuit.

“How...” Wei Wuxian’s lips parted. “Whoa...”

Behind him, Lan Wangji grimaced as seven chords of silk wound themselves around his right hand. He lashed out at the same time that Li Shao began to fire.

“Canggeng... Canggeng was made into a Feather Robe,” Baoshan-Sanren gasped as the earth beneath their feet began to shift. “The Feather Robe was based on the Immortal Brocade, if I didn’t come in time...”

“...huh?” Wei Wuxian snapped out of his trance. “Canggeng? Made into a robe?”

Baoshan-Sanren stared at him. “...I keep forgetting, none of you lived through that time,” she whispered. “Er... once such a thing is worn, the wearer can be controlled by other people, be taken advantage of, controlled and made to do evil, and become unwitting accomplices and victims, and be sucked dry of blood if given enough time. When I located it, it was in the form of a silver hairpin.”

* * *

“Ah-Li, have you seen my hairpin?” Madam Yu found Jiang Yanli just before the next meeting that QingHeng-Jun had convened in the commander’s tent of the Nanyang camp.

“No, Ah-Niang,” Jiang Yanli responded with a shake of her head and a confused look. “Would you like me of bring in refreshments for the meeting?”

“Mmm...” Madam Yu touched her head, and finding that her bun was still functional, thought nothing more as she left the cooking area for the commander’s tent.

QingHeng-Jun sat at the head, and at the front were all the leaders and high-ranking cultivators who could attend.

“Firstly, many thanks to everyone who could attend on such short notice,” QingHeng-Jun began without preamble. “First, bad news. The Yueyang Chang Sect has fallen.”

“Ah?!” Several people gave looks of dismay.

“This-” the Sect Chief of the Yao Sect spoke up from behind Jiang Fengmian. “How?”

“Their Sect Chief Chang Ci’an was caught endangering a child in Yueyang,” QingHeng-Jun read out from a small scroll. “In the resulting court case, there appeared several more criminal charges of bribery, rape, criminal malfeasance, tax evasion. Furthermore, for the destruction of property in order to build a mausoleum in the Yueyang area, the Yueyang Chang clan is not just facing destruction of property charge, but also a second-class charge for plotting great sedition. The Ling court sent a magistrate known for investigating curses, so we can expect a depravity charge soon.”

QingHeng-Jun put the scroll down and regarded everyone. “Two of the Ten Abominations have already come out, one of which is a capital offence. Clearly the Yueyang Chang Sect would face nine familial exterminations.”

Here, Nie Mingjue raised one arm. “QingHeng-Jun, did you not request our presence to decide our next course of action?”

“I did,” QingHeng-Jun confirmed. “However, the Qishan Wen Sect is very different from the ruler of a kingdom. If the cultivational sects step out in rebellion against Great Ling, we would be rebels, and we would not have any legitimacy.”

At this point, a scout of the Gusu Lan Sect ran in. “Report!”

“Speak.”

“Sect Chief, an envoy of the Ling court has arrived!”

QingHeng-Jun’s lips pressed together. “Show them in.”

The tent flap opened. “His Majesty has arrived!” came a thin, reedy announcement.

All the cultivators present suddenly leapt to their feet as a figure walked in, carrying the staff of peace and axe of authority indicated. Yet, he was dressed in mourning robes of white – a far cry from any Majesty that his royal style suggested.

“I am Xuan Ce, courtesy Xuanyun, tenth king of Great Ling.” The young man in mourning spoke to a thunderstruck audience. “All of you present, all cultivators of great families – do you intend to rebel against the court today?”

“...” QingHeng-Jun stood, and made a deep salute. “My respects to His Majesty. May he live ten thousand years.”

“I do not request ten thousand years, but I shall make do with settling the little problem of the land’s cultivators congregating in rebellion,” Xuan Ce’s snapped remarks caused a few more cowardly soldiers to kneel. “My father the late king died under the pressure of the Qishan Wen Sect besieging our capital. Now, exactly how did matters come to this head?”

“This is a matter of the cultivation world!” Jin Zixun spoke up, his head tilted in arrogance.

“It ceased to be such, when your cultivators besieged the capital!” Xuan Ce’s sudden shout at the end caused a few more to cringe. “Who is in charge of these rebels and traitors here?”

More cultivators hung their heads. No matter their sect affiliation, it was still nominally true that the current head of government was the one nominated as the Son of Heaven, ruler of the world.

“Who are-”

“I am the nominated Director-General, Your Majesty,” QingHeng-Jun interrupted Nie Mingjue’s shout. “Our war against the Wen Sect... has caused great trouble to the Court.”

“Indeed. Our royal sister the Princess Shuiyue went to great lengths to avenge our father. The rebel Wen Ruohan awaits execution come autumn.” Xuan Ce made to sit, and his personal servant prepared a chair such that he faced QingHeng-Jun’s desk at the head of the tent. “The properties of the Qishan Wen Sect has been confiscated to enrich the treasury, and the techniques of the sect taken by the Princess Shuiyue to begin raising a corps of cultivators.”

A hubbub rose immediately. Although the affairs of the secular world hardly affected the cultivation world due to the inherent difficulty of cultivation, it was the first time that someone was so openly speaking of an army of cultivators, taught not by tradition and passing techniques down a bloodline but instead by the rule of the sovereign.

“The recent violence of the Qishan Wen Sect and the resulting campaign against them has troubled us,” Xuan Ce continued. “Cultivators used their prized techniques to defy the imperial mandate, and turned their blade to Us. Clearly, the cultivation world has been left to pasture for far too long.”

Madam Yu started to trace her ring finger for Zidian, except that Jiang Fengmian caught her hand, and shook his head sadly.

“These people are not the Qishan Wen Sect,” Jiang Fengmian whispered. “My Lady, restrain yourself. You know the Nine Familial Exterminations.”

Madam Yu swallowed. “What this man says... he echoes the Qishan Wen Sect too much...”

“The Qishan Wen Sect went too far because they desired to dominate the cultivation world,” Jiang Fengmian replied. “He, on the other hand, is the king, Master of the World. Even if in practice our lives are not affected, but imperial power establishes the rule of law which governs the land.”

“ ‘All under heaven is the king’s land, and all within the four shores are subjects’ – it is a statement to the absolute authority of government,” Meng Yao murmured, holding back Lan Xichen in the crowd. “The cultivation sects now face a terrible choice – to declare themselves human and submit to the rites which demand obeisance to the king, or declare ourselves... as immortals, not subject to the rule of the land.”

“Jiang Cheng, calm down!” Wei Ying pleaded as he held back Jiang Cheng from charging to the forefront of the hubbub. “If we fall out with these mortal royalty there is no turning back...!!!”

* * *

Outside the Nanyang camp, the Ling armies were already assembled. A strike force of cultivators with their swords prepared awaited, a bag of oil-bombs and fire talismans placed next to them. Infantry and cavalry stood ready, weapons polished and prepared under the burning sun of late summer.

Within the commander’s tent, the Princess Shuiyue put down the bamboo scroll from which she had been reading from.

“My Feather Robe should have activated, but it is not. Someone found it.”

She sighed.

“Well, alright then. Ce’er truly believes that these people follow the rule of law... I shall wait.”

A scout ran in. “Report! Marshal, His Majesty has entered the Nanyang camp!”

“Continue observing. If he doesn’t get out in two hours, all hands prepare to attack.”

“Yes!” The scout retreated.

“Two hours... if there is no proof of life in two hours...” the Princess shook her head. “Xuan Yue, this younger brother of ours is truly frustrating...these cultivators have spent all their lives at the peak. To submit to imperial rule now, without a fight... it seems so ridiculous that I cannot believe that he would believe such a thing. Yet he... if they refuse to surrender, it will be rebellion now. Our little king... can he stand it? The fact that I will have to kill them all to pave the way for the kingdom’s peace?”

Hong Yuexia sighed. “So this is what having a little brother is like... I wished I thought about killing him.”

“Thinking about that fake little brother of yours?” A woman in green walked into the tent. “To think about him so much indicates some level of concern for him, Yuexia.”

“My worry for him, yes... that is none of your concern, Cangcui.” the red-robed princess smirked. “Preparations?”

“Complete. By the way... did you feel that presence of a dimension opening?” Qing Cangcui lightly questioned.

“I have already sent a doppelgänger to investigate.”

“Result?”

“Taoyuanzi is alive and trapped in a book.”

“Will he stir up the situation?” Qing Cangcui sat straighter. “Because of him, you were taken down.”

“Hmph. Who do they think I am?” Hong Yuexia tutted. “No, Baoshan... I sense my formal dress with her.”

“Formal dress... Wufeng?”

“Yes.” Hong Yuexia’s eyes shifted to jade-green, covering her sclera until it seemed as though her skull held two spheres of polished jade. “Now... to tear a dimension to it.”

“Can you manage?” Qing Cangcui caught herself, staring at Hong Yuexia’s back. “What am I saying... oi, Yuexia.”

“Yes?”

“When you were trapped by Wen You... was it really because you could not escape, that you had to wait for us to rescue you?”

“...” Hong Yuexia hesitated.

“Or,” here Qing Cangcui’s tone turned hard, “was it because you saw something in Wen You’s choice?”

“...I was mistaken,” Hong Yuexia laughed at last. “I thought that he could be the next god to inherit my mantle. Wen You was indeed one in love – one in familial love, desperate for his brother to survive. So I was mistaken, and he did not have the miracle to rise to the challenge.”

“Kingdoms can always be built, people can always be ruled... to find another for my mantle, is simply too hard.”


	23. Scarlet Thread

# 23: Scarlet Thread

Within the painted world outside of time, a dragon rose from the earth. Its sinuous form was dotted with signal towers, its body dotted with battlements, and it spat out great chunks of clay and rock along with great ribbons of smoke-signals.

Wei Wuxian uttered a curse as he clung to the battlements for dear life, unable to use Chenqing or even a talisman or do anything else except dodge as a dart shot out, burying itself and a line of rope.

“Oi!”

The rope snapped in, and Li Shao swung along it with a harness that seemed attached to his person, to rest next to Wei Wuxian’s prone form. Silently, Li Shao handed him a rope.

Wei Wuxian hurriedly tied the rope around his waist. “Earth Dragon?” he panted. “The Long Wall?!”

“There is only that which you can’t imagine, there is nothing which I cannot draw.” Li Shao grimaced, sketching out on the floor-wall of the painted Great Wall-turned-dragon. He drew a longbow and a quiver of arrows, which were handed to Wei Wuxian. “Shoot up.”

“Ah?!”

Wei Wuxian still did as asked, watching from the corner of his eye as Li Shao bit into his thumb and used the blood to draw a circular array into which he poured spiritual energy. A puff of white crackled with red sparks, and from the thin air before Wei Wuxian dropped a stunned-faced Hong Yuexia, who was promptly shot by Wei Wuxian back. Her red robes fanned out, blocking the triple-shot that Wei Wuxian had unleashed but unable to block a fourth.

Both men watched as the shot figure of Hong Yuexia suddenly erupted into fiery ropes which exploded like firecrackers.

“The normal Reduced Earth can work, but drawing a Distance-Reducing array would allow her to more accurately send a dummy,” Li Shao commented, the crossbow in his hand melting down into ink, which Li Shao pulled out into a wall-mounted cannon complete with burning fuse, pushing the cannon to point down the Great Wall.

Along the undulating length of the Earth Dragon, guards of stone were being bowled over by the flight of a flying carpet. Lying spread-eagle on it, the real Hong Yuexia’s plait of hair whipped out behind her head before it launched itself towards the men, only for the strum of chords to cut through it mid-air.

Floating upon Bichen, Lan Wangji hooked three chords at once on his zither, which chopped through the flimsy carpet that soon exploded.

“Fuxi?!” a screech could be heard.

Wei Wuxian grimaced, sketching out a familiar array before pouring energy in, and frowning as nothing happened. “Senior Li... Stars Surrounding... Moon...”

Li Shao barely looked around. “I can’t use it.”

“Ah?”

Li Shao sighed. “What Stars Surrounding the Moon demands from its wielder, is the mindset of ‘I am the foremost under the heavens, so the world must obey me’. Which is to say, the user must have a corresponding ambition to make their mark in history – be it immortalised or notorious. Does it look like I’ve made any attempt to do that?”

“Then... what about me?”

“Your past self lost the possibility of becoming your current self, so in reality your identity also lost the chance of going down in history as a byword of infamy,” Li Shao fired three shots, and conjured a shield as three shots answered him.

Hong Yuexia’s screech rent the air as a large boulder half the size of a cliff hit her. Baoshan-Sanren huffed as she ran the length of the Great Wall, snatching bow and arrow from a stone sentinel to draw and fire and then continue running in a smooth execution of moves.

“Get us out of here!” she screamed before Hong Yuexia flew through the air, armed with bow and arrows of her own.

Li Shao sighed as he put his palms to the floor underneath, “...fly.”

The world shook, the Earth Dragon arched its way to soar towards the skies, and Wei Wuxian felt himself becoming weightless as he was launched through the air. The earth dragon, Li Shao’s barrage of firearms, and Hong Yuexia’s answering barrage of explosions melted into splashes of colours in an unknown medium on the folded pages of a book that fanned out—

—Lan Wangji’s embrace caught him in a warm cushion as they fell to the ground. He bounced once, twice, and thrice before he finally came to a stop. Then another series of bounces came, along with Baoshan-Sanren giving a low moan.

“...suicide attack.” Baoshan-Sanren murmured after a long moment of silence. “That... clone would have a backlash on Hong Yuexia.”

“What happened?!” The tent flap opened and Meng Yao entered at the same time that a flat pamphlet-shaped book fell onto the ground and burst into crackling blue flames that ate into the ground and left nothing but a scorch mark.

“N- Never mind,” Wei Wuxian recovered his breath. Lan Wangji covered his face as Wei Wuxian hurriedly asked: “What happened?!”

“Master Yuandao, the Sect Chief has convened a meeting of the cultivational sects! They’re in stand-off with the Ling ambassadors! And... His Majesty the King came to negotiate,” Meng Yao frowned.

“That’s...”

“The great clan leaders are also present.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth in comprehension. “You think they’re going to assassinate?”

“I don’t know,” Meng Yao frowned. “His Majesty seems like a benevolent ruler, and aside from a few concessions we could succeed. However, the one in charge of the army is the Princess Shuiyue, and she was the one who put him on the throne to focus on dealing with... us. QingHeng-Jun has bade me to arrange for an evacuation if necessary.”

“What... kind of concessions?”

“...books.” Meng Yao bowed. “Master Yuandao... please give me the array drawing.”

Wei Wuxian: “What are you trying now?!”

“Master Yuandao... I spotted a patrol over our camp armed with oil bombs.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened in disbelief, a contrast to Wei Wuxian’s sputtered: “ _What_?!”

“They no longer treat us as soldiers, but as rebellious subjects to be put down,” Meng Yao shook his head. “Once those weapons are dropped, even if we fend them off, the camp will go up in flames. We... have to fire them down.”

* * *

“The archives of the Qishan Wen Sect are also knowledge of the cultivation world, seized during Wen Ruohan’s tyranny,” one sect leader kept saying. “If we are to step back, the Court should be expected to step back too.”

“...”

Surprisingly, it was Jiang Cheng who spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started to address the still-bickering senior cultivators. “The situation as understood is thus: the Ling court does not need to negotiate – we lost the moment the Wen Sect’s archives and treasures fell into their hands. QingHeng-Jun still has the scars from the attack at White Rabbit Lake, and Sect Chief Jin inherited on his father’s death. With time, their recruitment and policies would only disadvantage the cultivational sects. The rules are all made by them, so we will lose as we continue here.”

“Thank you, Young Master Jiang,” QingHeng-Jun sighed. “General?”

Nie Mingjue stood up. “Reason stands with the royal Court,” he said. “However, it was the Wen Sect who started this mess by besieging Luoyi.”

At this, even Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng were taken aback. Nie Mingjue had actually done the unexpected in bowing to politics and leaving the Wen Sect alone.

“We will withdraw,” Nie Mingjue stated, “but we will not bend to any disarmament policy.”

“Very well,” QingHeng-Jun nodded. “His Majesty-”

Here a scout ran in again, half-covered in blood. “S- Sect Chief! Report! The Princess Shuiyue and fifty thousand troops have the Nanyang camp surrounded! A- And... and...”

“And?” QingHeng-Jun demanded.

“...and they said... that if they don’t receive the surrender in two hours, they’ll burn the whole camp!”

“Outrageous!” Jin Zixuan bellowed as the tent flaps opened.

“Someone stop Sect Chief Nie!” QingHeng-Jun swiftly ordered, and Lan Xichen compiled as his father limped out. “Nie-”

QingHeng-Jun choked, looking at the skies above the camp.

Scores of cultivators hovered in a controlled pattern over the camp, clearly patrolling. Each cultivator carried two wine vessels, stuffed shut with cotton cloth.

QingHeng-Jun looked towards the camp entrance, where Nie Mingjue had already drawn his sabre at the opposing army’s commander. As Nine Mingjue continued to charge, though, QingHeng-Jun’s attention swapped to the standard-bearer waving the flag.

He looked up, seeing the cultivators above begin to set the cotton cloths on fire.

“Run!” He shouted as the first flaming bottle of delicate porcelain crashed onto the ground, releasing the awful stench of burning oil.

The flames spread, catching onto the tents and flaring out as men and women alike began to flee.

“Teams one, two, three, fly up and harass! Sect Chief Jiang, Madam Yu, retrieve Sect Chief Nie!” QingHeng-Jun began to order.

“Understood!” Jiang Fengmian immediately flew on his sword after Nie Mingjue.

“Talismans! Set up anti-air formations! Young Master Wei, Wangji, evacuate non-combatants!” QingHeng-Jun looked up. “Sect Chief Jin, covering fire!”

“Got it!” Jin Zixuan had already climbed a tent. Surprisingly, he was not the only one – a man in plain white robes was already armed with bow and arrow, shooting down would-be bombers.

“Wen Ning!” Wei Ying and Wei Wuxian froze as they caught sight of the soft-spoken man matching Jin Zixuan shot for shot.

“Nice shot, Young Master Wen!”

Wen Ning nearly fell off the tent. “Er... Sect Chief Jin-”

“Call me Zixuan! If we’re shooting people cowardly enough to launch a sneak attack, all bets are off!” Jin Zixuan launched an arrow at one cultivator about to drop a flaming bottle on a group of evacuating women, including Jiang Yanli.

“Sect Chief Jin, good luck!”

Jin Zixuan shot a diving bomber without looking around, still blushing.

“Meng Yao- Meng Yao? Meng Yao?!” QingHeng-Jun stared as Wei Wuxian ran up. “Have you seen Meng Yao?!”

“He...” Wei Wuxian’s voice trailed off. “He went to cover our escape.”

Nie Mingjue had just swung his sword, at the lowest point of his momentum when a flying sword at maximum speed. A chord hooked his leg, and with all the great weight of a man Nie Mingjue’s height he crashed to the ground, dragged into the fray of the Ling army.

While the army soldiers were still stunned, Meng Yao leapt off of his flying sword towards the princess’s mount, a dagger drawn. The dagger was deflected, but the eyes of the princess widened as Meng Yao held up his other hand to show the glistening chord.

The tip of the Chixiao sword was placed at his neck.

“Any last words?”

Momentary confusion gave way to horror as Meng Yao pressed his own throat close, and held up a paper to the bleeding wound. His eyes glistened, not with feverish triumph or relief, and in fact held fear, but the proximity of the pair also meant that they would be going down together.

A pillar of light descended as day flashed into night, the world shifted on its axis, and Hong Yuexia’s eyes shone like luminescent jewels: “ _You_...”

Having fought his way out of the disrupted formation, Nie Mingjue flew on Baxia, avoiding the pillar of light which had descended from the heavens to slice Nanyang into ribbons. Dazedly, he backed to the Nanyang camp, watching the cultivators in the Ling aerial corps evade the pillars of light, and then he breathed: “...good man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter I'll be writing an epilogue and then ending. I realised that the concepts and research I wanted to put in here wouldn't justify such a long fic, so I'd really rather cut it up into arcs. I'm also getting busy especially with a fic in the works, so please do watch out for it!


End file.
